


I Knew From Day One

by SupernaturalPrincess9



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, Comfort/Angst, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Memoirs, POV First Person, non-au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-09 15:44:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 30,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5545673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalPrincess9/pseuds/SupernaturalPrincess9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A memoir of J2 from Jensen's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

I had always taken auditions seriously. The one for the new Kripke take on urban legends was no exception. I’d already had one audition for the part of Sam, but the studio execs had someone else in mind for that part so they wanted to try a reading as Dean.

I looked at myself in the mirror. I’d let a little scruff grow because my features have always been almost… pretty… and that just wouldn’t do for this type of show. Or any type of show, really. Pretty looks on men always spawned rumors, which I’d been studiously trying to ignore since my early days in Hollywood.

I ran my product-covered fingers through my hair, spiking it up a bit, with the hope that it would distract from things I’d rather hide, like my much too pillowy lips which often drew the wrong kind of attention. Well, not necessarily the wrong kind, but attention I didn’t want, or couldn’t allow myself to want.

I was sitting in the waiting area outside of the audition room, one leg crossed over the other, when you came running in. You were wearing a hoodie and I was surprised you were so casual when I’d taken so much time to get my look right.

“Hey.” Your voice was confident when you greeted me and your open smile wore your dimples like exclamation points to your friendliness. I’d never seen anyone so quick to smile before, or since for that matter.

“Hey.” My voice was soft and I mentally kicked myself for not putting more force behind my response. I could hear my dad’s words in my head: “Jensen, men speak with confidence. Use your diaphragm to project your voice.”

Although my dad was back in Texas, I judged myself for him and found that I came up short. You, however, didn’t seem to mind. You just beamed at me and shook your too-long hair out of your eyes. As you sat, you asked, “Where is everyone?”

“It’s just us.” I said, stronger this time. Projecting my voice the way my dad would want me to. I tried not to stare at you, but it was a battle I repeatedly lost. Everything about you was different than what I was used to. You were relaxed and friendly. You made small talk, immediately looking for things we could connect on.

When you found out I was from Dallas, your face practically glowed in excitement and I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. You spoke about the Cowboys and San Antonio and wanting to live in Austin someday, but most of it barely registered with me because I couldn’t stop thinking about the way the late afternoon sun turned your eyes from blue to green to gold; a kaleidoscope of swirling colors I knew I could lose myself in if you let me.

When we auditioned, our natural chemistry was immediately apparent and as we left the audition room together you threw your arm around me and leaned your head toward mine. I could feel your hair brushing against mine as you stage whispered, “Dude… we totally nailed that!” which caused the receptionist to smile at us as we continued to walk toward the elevator.

When you pulled your arm away, I immediately missed its weight. I looked up at you, searching for the right thing to say. I said the only thing that came to mind and immediately regretted it. “Totally.”

Of all the words available to me in the English language; of all the things I could have said, I picked, “Totally.”

You didn’t seem to care, though. You just smiled brightly and pulled me into a hug. To my surprise, I felt my arms wrap around you, too. You squished me tight and whispered, “I really hope we get to work together, Jensen.”

When you released me, I knew I was grinning like a fool, but I couldn’t help it. You wanted to work with me and I felt the same about you. It scared me, though. You were like the sun and I felt like Icarus… immediately attracted to the danger you represented; and there was a part of me that didn’t even care that my wax wings might melt from the light and heat you constantly emitted.

“We should get together sometime.” Your voice was open and friendly; devoid of guile. You pulled out your cell phone, your fingers ready to program my details. I could intuit immediately that you were not playing a game like so many others did in that town. 

You were genuine and it was clear that being with you would be easy, effortless. Too effortless for me. I knew that if we spent time together, it wouldn’t be long before you’d take my heart and force me to confront the unspeakable reality of who I really was. 

I meant to say no. I really did. So I was surprised to find my phone in my hand as you gave me your digits and I pushed them rapidly on the keypad of my phone.

With one last hug, you walked through the lobby and said, “I’ll call you soon.”

In a daze, I found my way to my car. I sat inside it for a while, my hands shaking and my heart pounding. I chastised myself for not being more careful. 

When I’d first come to Hollywood, I tried to make my parents proud, to do as they’d expect me to do. I clung to their beliefs for as long as I could. Until the first time I’d kissed another man. I knew then for certain who I was, but as I pushed him away, I vowed I’d never embrace that part of me. It was too foreign, too ‘other’.

And I was doing fine. I really was. Until I met you. With your dimply smile and your lack of regard for propriety and personal space, you immediately broke through my carefully constructed façade.

I was about to back my car out of my parking space when my phone rang. I could see on the display it was you. I vowed I wouldn’t answer, but when the phone rang a third time, I couldn’t prevent myself from picking it up and letting you in. 

“Hello?”

“Do you miss me? I know you totally miss me.” Your laughter was like music to my ears. You didn’t wait for a response before asking, “Where are you going now? You wanna go grab an early dinner? I know this great barbeque place, and you know how hard it is to find good barbeque outside of Texas…”

I opened my mouth to say no, that I couldn’t possibly just go have dinner with someone I’d just met. Instead I heard myself say, “Sure. Where is it?”

I listened carefully to your directions, all the while screaming at myself inside my head to just stop what I was doing and to go home. Home was safe. I’d be safe there. 

But I couldn’t, because you were waiting for me. I vowed that we’d have a quick dinner and then I’d go home and try to figure out how to shield my heart from you in the event we ended up working together.

Three hours later, we were playing Guitar Hero at your place. For a while, I forgot about how much you scared me and instead, I just enjoyed our time together. I can still remember the way you blushed when I wrapped my arm around you, giving you a half hug to celebrate my win. 

“Better luck next time, Padalecki. You need to learn to respect your elders!” I’d said, trying to remind myself that you were just a kid – only 22 – and I was already 26… over half-way to 30 and you were barely in your 20s. Yet another reason to keep my distance. 

How could you possibly know who you were when I was still trying to figure it out?

“You may be _slightly_ older, but I’m taller!” you’d said, full of glee. I couldn’t argue with you; you would always be taller; that much had been evident since the first moment I’d seen you in person. You hadn’t looked quite that tall in Gilmore Girls, but TV always made it hard to judge.

Saying goodnight to you was awkward. I couldn’t hold your gaze as we said good-bye. I was terrified that if our gazes locked, I couldn’t stop myself from kissing you senseless… maybe doing more. Because even then, I wanted to do so much more with you than just kiss.

When I reached out to shake your hand, you just laughed as you pulled me into a tight hug. “Don’t be silly, Jensen. We’re gonna be co-workers soon and then best friends. You should just accept that now.”

I know my cheeks were stained crimson when you released me. You may have mistaken that for embarrassment, but it wasn’t. I was long past being embarrassed by our interactions. At that point, being close to you did things to me. I wanted you so much, I was flushed with desire.

The next day, our agents called us to tell us the great news that we’d be playing two brothers hunting monsters and that we’d have our own show as the co-leads. I was both excited and regretful all at once. I’d always wanted to be the lead in a show, but the things you made me feel… how could I even begin to hide that when you were playing my brother on a TV show?

You called me moments later, interrupting the war I was having with myself in my head. You said you were swinging by to pick me up to celebrate, all you needed was my address. 

I opened my mouth to tell you that I had other plans, that I couldn’t just drop what I was doing (nothing) and just go out with you on a whim (sure I could). Instead I gave you my address and you said you’d see me in thirty minutes.

I rushed to get ready and as I changed my shirt for the fifth time, I stopped to remind myself that I wasn’t going out on a date with you; we were celebrating, that was all.

You were early and knocking forcefully before I had a chance to do my hair. When I opened the door, you stared at me and broke into a smile. You reached your hand forward and threaded your fingers through my hair, leaving a trail of tingling nerves in your wake.

“I like your hair that way, Jen.” You said with a smile. “It’s so soft.”

I couldn’t respond. I didn’t know what to say so I stood there with my mouth open, completely silent and still.

You laughed and put your fingers on my chin, lightly pushing up so I’d close my mouth. “Gonna catch flies like that!” you said softly and I could have sworn I saw understanding in your eyes as you smiled at me; like you knew what you were doing to me and had no intention of stopping.

I blinked and still could say nothing, which just made you laugh harder. “Let’s go, Jen.”

I followed you to your car and got into the passenger seat, buckling my seatbelt for safety purposes, all the while thinking about how it was all just an illusion: as long as I was with you, nothing would be safe. _I_ wouldn’t be safe.

You drove us to a bar and grill. I could feel the light pressure of your hand on my lower back as we walked to our booth. You still guide me that way today, and it still thrills me as much as it did the first time. We slid in and got comfortable, which for you meant that you had your legs stretched out and your sneakers were on my seat, one on each side of my hip.

I could see the crisp and wiry hair on your calves between your low-rise socks and the hem of your shorts. It took everything in me to keep from touching you; all I really wanted to do was to run my hands up your legs, feeling your skin against my palms.

We started with a couple of shots and toasted one another. 

Your eyes lit up as I finally said something salient. “Here’s to the Winchester brothers!”

We drank the tequila down and sucked on limes to reduce the burn. You sucked the lime into your mouth and then smiled at me – your teeth completely covered by the rind. Because it was our third shot, I found it particularly hilarious and I laughed until tears slid down my cheeks as you stared at me, your bright green smile proudly on display.

Later that night, we stumbled out to your car and before you unlocked it, I can still remember how serious you looked. “Jen… we should get a cab, just go back to my place and sleep this off…”

“I can’t sleep with you.” I said, completely unaware that I’d spoken out loud.

You laughed. “I will protect your virtue, Jen… just… we probably shouldn’t drive. Right? We’re on the cusp of something great and we shouldn’t take chances…”

You called for a taxi and I couldn’t stop myself from leaning against you as the taxi took us back to your place. You paid the fare and then took my hand in yours to pull me out of the cab. 

I can still remember the way it felt to twine my fingers with yours for the first time. My fingers sliding over the soft skin of yours, our hands fitting together perfectly as though they were made for that very thing. To this day, holding your hand is one of my favorite things in the world.

You didn’t let go of my hand as we went into your apartment building. You held my hand and I held yours until you were locking the door behind us. I still remember how you hugged me briefly just inside the door. 

“Make yourself at home, Jen.” Your whisper was soft, with your lips just brushing the shell of my ear, making me tremble with desire as you walked away from me, toward your kitchen. It took me a moment to clear my head. I thought about calling the taxi back but I just couldn’t bring myself to leave. I’ve never been able to let go of you easily and I don’t think that will ever change.

I stumbled to your couch and let my head fall onto the cushions. Suddenly, you were back with two beers. I could smell your cologne, mingled with your musk as you handed me one. I could feel my body react to your scent and briefly I wondered exactly what kind of insanity had befallen me. You reached for the remote and flipped on the TV, distracting me from my thoughts. You scrolled through the channels as I tentatively sipped my beer.

We both shouted, “Hey! Tombstone!” when your surfing landed us on HBO. We looked at each other and laughed, knowing intuitively that the cowboy genre spoke to the Texas boys inside of us.

You leaned back on the couch and wiggled until our shoulders were touching. You turned your head and smiled at me. “I love Sam Elliott.” you slurred sleepily at me.

“Me, too.” I agreed as I burrowed into to couch.

A while later, I felt you take my beer out of my hand and I heard a soft clink as you set it on the glass coffee table. I was so sleepy, I couldn’t bring myself to move or speak. When your arm wrapped around me and pulled me to your chest, I heard the happy little groan I made before I realized it came from me.

My eyes flew open, although you couldn’t see that. I was in fight or flight mode as my body responded to yours. I held myself as still as I could as you held me tight. The feeling of your lips on my forehead made me want to cry out with need. 

Eventually we slept and in the morning, I feigned sleep as you gently extracted yourself from our mutual embrace and then laid my head softly on a pillow. It wasn’t long before I smelled coffee brewing and heard you humming as you busied yourself in the kitchen.

A month later, we began filming the pilot for our show. We were still in LA then, and between auditions and the start of shooting, we’d seen each other nearly every day, so you can imagine how surprised, angry and hurt I was when your girlfriend came to visit you on-set.


	2. Two

It was lunch-time on our third day of shooting. We’d done two solid days of filming, including the scene of Dean sneaking into Sam’s apartment. The chemistry between us was palpable and I briefly wondered if my desire for you was as obvious on film as I thought it might be off-screen. 

Since we played brothers, I wondered how our interactions would read – purely familial or something… other. I supposed we’d find out once the pilot aired.

I was waiting in the catering line under the assumption you’d be joining me soon. We’d been filming my scenes in the police station, so you’d had the morning off. Once I had my food, I turned and my face broke into a smile when I caught a glimpse of you. 

Every time I saw you, I would get weak in the knees. I know that’s clichéd, but that doesn’t make it less true. You just simply took my breath away.

I was about to wave to draw your attention when I saw you wrap your arm around a petite brunette who was smiling up at you. I stopped and watched as you bent down and kissed her. It wasn’t a long kiss, just a peck, but it was publicly appropriate; at least for everyone who wasn’t me.

I felt tears flood my eyes and I had to suppress a groan of dismay when the fact that you had a girlfriend registered in my brain. I couldn’t believe it. We’d been together nearly every day for a month and not once had you mentioned her.

I thought about all the times you’d hugged me, all the times you’d found reasons to wrap your arm around me. I closed my eyes when I thought about the nights when we’d “accidentally” fall asleep in each other’s arms on your couch or mine.

I wondered why you purposely misled me. I wondered if my original take on you – that you were genuine and kind – was all wrong. I wondered if you had sensed my true nature and had purposely led me on for your own amusement. 

I wondered if you and she laughed at my stupidity as I let you into my heart.

There was no way I could eat my lunch in the presence of others with my heart breaking into a thousand pieces. I turned and walked quickly toward my trailer. When you yelled my name, I didn’t slow or give any indication that I’d heard you. 

Once in the safety of my trailer, I set my food down and ran to the bathroom, violently dry heaving over the toilet. I’d thought you were genuine and kind. I thought that we had a real connection, one that was growing stronger every day.

But you hadn’t cared enough to tell me about _her_. All of the times we’d shared over the previous weeks… what had that even meant to you? 

Clearly not what it had meant to me.

I was already in love with you, you see. 

Despite what I was brought up to believe about that kind of thing, I’d let myself truly feel something for you – another man – for the first time in my life. I’d opened my heart, I stood ready to give it – me – to you. But you had her and I thought you didn’t need me.

While nothing we’d done had been overtly sexual, what we’d shared had seemed to be so much more. At least to me. But her presence on-set, your failure to mention her to me… it all made a mockery of everything we’d shared.

Once I had dried my tears, I resolved to hold you at arm’s length – where I should have kept you all along.

An hour later, a PA came to get me and I went back to set. 

My guard firmly in place.

“Jensen, I’ve been looking for you!” I heard you behind me so I put a smile on my face and turned around.

“Was busy.” I provided as an explanation. I saw your eyes flicker with doubt as you realized that my smile hadn’t reached mine.

You had her small hand in yours. 

In a perverse moment of self-flagellation, I let my gaze linger there. I wondered if you thought about the way my hand could meet yours – nearly equal in size, equal in pressure, a perfect fit – as your hand engulfed hers, tiny and weak.

I boldly met your eyes, revealing nothing of my inner torment. “Who do we have here?”

You smiled at me, tentatively for the first time since we’d met. “I wanted to introduce you to Sandy McCoy.”

With a smile that would never fill my eyes with warmth, I held out my hand and shook hers. It felt wrong in mine and I fought the urge to wipe my hand on my jeans to get rid of the soft, slightly damp sensation in the palm of my hand.

“I’ve heard so much about you!” she said as she smiled at me. Her eyes were warm and she seemed just as genuine as you, which made me doubt what I was feeling about the situation – until I remembered that you’d lied to me, at least through omission. 

“Jared just can’t stop talking about you.” She was trying so hard to be friends with me, but there was no way that could ever be.

“Likewise.” I lied as I looked at you. “I’ve gotta get to set.”

I turned and walked away, wondering when you had found the time to get her up to speed on our… friendship, and yet had never once mentioned her to me.

For the rest of the day, I threw myself into my scenes. I was a professional and I’d had things… happen… on set before, either fights or unfortunate drunk groping after hours. It was no big deal. We hadn’t even gotten to drunk groping, so all would be fine, right?

But the truth of it was that what we’d shared over that month was so much more profound than drunk groping. I’d felt like we were laying the groundwork for something deeper. But it seemed like it was all a lie in that moment. Some kind of sick joke you’d played to amuse yourself with your new, somewhat emotionally fragile, co-worker.

We hadn’t been shooting long, but already our custom was to meet up at the end of the day and grab dinner or drinks. On that night, I went to my car and drove straight home, ignoring your calls as tears slid down my face.

The next morning, we had an early call because we were shooting together. When I saw you, I was friendly but inside? My gut roiled and I knew if I ate anything, I would immediately throw it right back up.

You tried to talk to me, but I had already put up my walls. I could see the hurt on your face when I responded to your question as to why I hadn’t called you back with a terse, “Busy.”

At the end of the day, I once again made myself scarce and when you called for the eighth time that evening, I nearly answered because it was killing me to know that you were out there somewhere, thinking of me – trying to engage with me – and I just couldn’t deal.

We were off for the weekend so I went out with some of my old LA crew in order to prevent myself from answering your calls. I toyed with the idea of picking some guy up for some meaningless sex, but you were all I wanted and no one measured up. By Sunday afternoon, I was desperate to see you, but still couldn’t bring myself to call. 

I had to protect my heart. So quickly it had been yours and the thing with Sandy was a perfect illustration as to why I never let anything get serious, why I always held myself in check.

At 4 PM, there was a knock at my door. I thought about ignoring it but if it was Kane and I didn’t answer when my car was clearly visible in the lot, he’d give me shit for days. So I shuffled to the door and opened it. 

You were there, in front of me. Your eyes were rimmed with red and your shirt was only half-tucked in.

You said nothing as you entered into my space unbidden. You just walked right past me and then turned to look at me. Still you were silent.

“Jared… what are you doing?” I asked. Because I didn’t really understand why you would be at my home when I was sending you such clear signals that I didn’t want to see you outside of work.

“Why won’t you answer my calls?” Your eyes were bloodshot and your expression was a bit desperate. It was clear my lack of response had hurt you deeply.

Part of me felt good about hurting you back. The rest of me wanted to rush to you and pull you to me so I could undo the pain I’d caused you.

“I’ve been busy.” My voice was soft and I mentally kicked myself for once again forgetting to project my voice like a man. I could never escape the voice of his disapproval; it was so ingrained in me now.

You ran your fingers through your hair, which for anyone else would mess up their style, but for you, it just somehow made it more perfect. I could see the confusion on your face and to see that level of emotion playing over your features was breaking my heart all over again, especially knowing that I caused it.

“You’re too busy for me.” Your voice was soft and it was a statement rather than a question. You turned and sat on my couch and looked up at me with tears in your eyes, silently beseeching me to ease your pain. “I don’t understand what changed.”

I folded my arms across my chest. If my arms were folded, I wouldn’t reach out to you; for once, I’d protect myself from the ease at which you were able to tear down my defenses.

“I figured your _girlfriend_ would probably like to see you more.” My tone was harsher than the words might indicate, but I could see I’d driven my point home by the look on your face. 

I felt satisfied then. Without revealing too much, I’d let you know just how much you’d hurt me.

When you stood and walked to me, your hands outstretched with the palms up, I vowed that I would be strong. There was no way I was going to let you back in just so you could hurt me all over again.

“She’s my friend, Jensen.” Your words were soft and I could see that you were trying to tell me something; maybe something important. But I was still hurt and angry and I couldn’t hear whatever it was you wanted me to know.

“Do you always kiss your friends, Jared?” My tone wasn’t any kinder, and I wasn’t about to relent.

It occurred to me that I was revealing too much of what I felt for you by the way I had reacted to the news of you having a girlfriend. No regular co-worker would display the level of vitriol, the sheer intensity of emotion. But I couldn’t stop.

And it was clear that you didn’t expect me to, and I couldn’t figure out why, so I accepted it.

When you put your hands back at your side, I thought I had won. But you had other plans. You walked toward me, invading my space until we were less than a foot apart. The way you looked at me took my breath away. There was something in your eyes, your beautiful kaleidoscope eyes, that called out to me and I wanted to let you back in.

When you laid your hands on my forearms and uncrossed my arms, I wanted to fight back, to thwart you. But your gaze froze me in place. 

When you framed my face with your hands, I wanted to push you away; I was going to push you away and then run… and maybe never stop.

But your eyes held me still.

“I only kiss my friends when I’m playing a part in public, Jensen.” As your face moved closer, your words were hot against my lips. I could feel every exhalation. “And when I’m with Sandy, I’m playing a part.”

I knew you could see the confusion on my face. You smiled at me, your eyes as gentle as the touch of your thumbs as you caressed my cheeks. 

“If you want me to stop, you have to tell me now, Jen.”

I finally understood what you were telling me –you and Sandy had an agreement that helped you fit into the expectations of actors in Hollywood. I’d heard of formal bearding and had been doing a more casual version of it myself with myriad women during my time in LA.

Did I want you to stop? 

It was such a loaded question. There was so much at risk, so much to consider. We were shooting a pilot. We were still at the beginning of our careers and there would be no way we could ever let anything that happened between us see the light of day. 

My parents. Oh, god, my parents. I was fairly certain they’d disown me if this thing with you got serious.

Did I want you to stop?

Yes, I wanted you to stop because I was fucking terrified.

But I was already lost in you. You’d so quickly captured my heart and I was smitten. 

No. I’m lying. That doesn’t even begin to cover what I felt for you.

I was in love with you. Completely enthralled by you. I think I had been since the day we auditioned together. 

I’m minimizing; of course I had loved you from that very day.

So I lifted my hands and slid them around your waist, letting them rest there as you held my face. With my thumbs, I stroked your sides gently over your shirt.

You looked down into my eyes until they fluttered closed as your lips captured mine. You were so gentle at first, your lips pressing against mine, the pressure increasing as you wrapped your arms around me. I felt your tongue seeking entrance to my mouth and I had yet another decision on my hands.

Would I let you in?

I wanted to take it slow, to figure things out, but my lips parted and suddenly the kiss was becoming something more. The way you held me to you made me feel safe for the first time in a long while. The moan you made when I threaded my fingers through your hair made me tremble with want and I could feel very distinctly what being close like this was doing to you. The evidence was pressed against my thigh.

“Jen.” Your voice was soft when you broke our kiss. 

I didn’t want you to stop. I wanted to keep going, but we both knew that there were things to discuss before we went any further. I wasn’t ready to talk about those things so I reinitiated the kiss with you, and you went along with me for a moment.

The second time you broke our kiss, you pulled me into a tight hug and the sensation of being _home_ washed over me. I was no virgin but you made me feel things I’d never felt before, so in many respects it was like finding out that nothing I’d done before had prepared me for the way things could be – would be – with you.

You pulled me to the couch and when you asked me to hold you, I couldn’t refuse.

With your head on my chest and our fingers entwined, you told me the secrets you’d kept since we met. You were sorry for not telling me about _her_. Surprisingly, you’d thought I knew you were gay and would likely have an arrangement of some sort to help you portray what agents and studios demanded, without any actual demands made, of course.

It was odd for me to realize that at 22, you were far more worldly than I.

You told me that you’d dated men before and I felt a jealousy I refused to put into words. I couldn’t bear the thought of someone else touching you… kissing you… just seeing the small peck you’d shared with _her_ was enough for me to know that.

I didn’t understand why I felt so possessive of you. I’d dated before and not once had I felt such a need to be “the one”. You brought that out in me and I was having trouble deciding if it was romantic or obsessive and unhealthy. When I looked down at our hands, so perfectly matched, they looked so right together, I realized I didn’t care. 

All I wanted was you.

If it had been up to me, you would have spent the night and I would have let you all the way inside of me. 

You were hesitant to go further. You told me we didn’t have anything figured out, other than the fact we had an intense connection and immediate attraction to one another, and I couldn’t disagree. Intellectually I understood and even appreciated your perspective. 

But…

My heart, my body… my soul – they were desperate for you.

As we softly kissed goodnight, I wondered how long you’d make me wait.


	3. Three

We resumed filming on Monday and everyone talked about how amazing our chemistry was in the dailies. We stood behind Singer and watched some. I nearly gasped when I felt your fingers lightly brushing my hand. When I looked at you, your smile was sweet with just a hint of naughtiness as you winked at me. I knew then that you would always take risks by finding a way to touch me in a way you shouldn’t in public. As I slowly ran my fingers over your jean-clad thigh right behind our producer, I knew I’d take those risks, too.

We tried to act naturally – like good friends – while on-set, but we both know we did a shitty job of hiding what was happening between us. We touched too much, we laughed too much and we let our gazes linger as we shared smiles that were clearly only meant for each other.

We could feel a worried Bob Singer’s eyes on us whenever we were goofing off between shots.

I wanted to take you to my trailer over lunch. Or go to yours. I wasn’t picky. It was so hard to go for so many hours without your touch. Early on, we’d decided we would eat with the crew, not just as a sign of solidarity but also to keep gossip at a minimum. The more we kept to public places, the better. 

We had about three weeks left on the shoot and then it would be a waiting game to see if it would get picked up with an order for a full season. The days of feigning an innocent friendship were tough. I was in love with you (although you still didn’t know that) and I wanted to be able to kiss you whenever I wanted. 

Deep down I knew I’d better get used to holding myself back because we were in Hollywood and Rupert Everett’s crash & burn once he came out was a lot more than just a cautionary tale about how revealing too much can end one’s career.

At the end of each day on-set, we’d leave the studio in our own cars, purposely turning in two different directions so that anyone who wanted to believe that nothing had happened between us had an easy way to convince themselves that were true. It didn’t occur to me at the time that these little, seemingly innocuous, games we played to hide what we meant to one another would only grow more complex as time passed.

As I look at our lives now, I often wonder if we should have made different choices in early days.

Like maybe I could have said no when you first asked me out for barbeque (there’s no way I could have refused you).

Or maybe I could have kept my distance when I found out about Sandy (when you knocked on my door, I knew I was just minutes from calling you, to beg to see you).

Or maybe… it does no good to second guess the decisions we’ve made together over the years. When I look at you now, what matters most is that we’re still us, despite the lies we have to tell to hide what we feel.

In those early days of shooting, we’d end up either at your place or at mine and sometimes we’d cook dinner together instead of having something delivered or grabbing take-out. We’d spend our evenings sending calls from our increasingly suspicious friends to voicemail because we were already where we wanted to be.

When we ate in, we’d select the ingredients at the market and then prepare them together, side by side, sharing a bottle of wine and frequent kisses as we’d chop and stir. You were never much of a cook, but you’d try just to make me smile. You’d eventually give up and spend your time with your arms wrapped around me, kissing my neck, as I finished things up.

Sometimes our dinner would grow cold as you’d hungrily eat at my mouth, your hands sliding over me, pulling me to you. I wanted you so much, but would always stop us short as fear of being judged would overwhelm me. I could see the disappointment in your eyes as I’d slow the contact and kiss you one last time before pulling away to reheat our food in the microwave.

We’d sit close at the table and I’d touch you and kiss you, showing you enough affection so that you’d understand it wasn’t that I didn’t want you. I knew you wanted to ask me why, but you could see that if you did, you’d risk pushing me away. So you’d happily take whatever I could give you and for the moment, it was enough.

Every day we spent together brought me a new opportunity to fall in love with you all over again. Whether it was your kindness to a new PA on set or watching as you’d slip $20 to a homeless person on our way to dinner, I could see who you were as a person and I loved you for it.

That scared me. A lot.

It was one thing to share a casual dalliance with someone; it was quite another to share quiet evenings at home, wrapped up in another man’s arms.

You have no idea how hard it was for me sometimes to let myself just be with you; to just roll with what was happening between us. I knew what I felt for you was real – the most real thing I’d ever experienced in my life.

I’d never really been in a relationship before and the way things were moving, I could tell that things were getting serious between us. I knew if we were to continue, I’d have to deal with my issues. Whatever we’d share physically would no longer just be about release or feeling good in the moment; it would involve our hearts and emotion and I’d have to admit that being with a man – specifically you – was what I needed to feel whole.

But I was at war. With myself, with my upbringing, with the beliefs I knew my parents held dear.

Sometimes I’d kiss you, and an image of my parents looking on, disgust apparent on their faces, would come unbidden to my mind. I’d try to ignore thoughts of them but I knew you could feel me shutting down as I imagined their horror at what I was doing with you. 

I know sometimes my actions confused you, but you knew me well enough to know that I would talk about what was bothering me when I’d sorted it out enough to share it with you. You were patient and kind; just another reason for me to love you the way I did, and still do.

I knew you wanted to get more physical sooner, but every time I tried to give into what we both wanted, I would think about the pastor at my parents’ church talking about Leviticus and the abomination that was homosexuality and I would find an excuse to stop short of where we both wanted to go. You accepted my whispered apologies, but I could see that you thought perhaps I didn’t feel the same about you as you felt about me.

When the filming for the pilot was done, we had a couple of months to kill before we’d find out if we’d be picked up for the fall. I was still struggling to reconcile my childhood indoctrination into my parents’ beliefs with who I knew I was and the more I didn’t deal with it, the more it came between us.

Loving you had shown me that, while I’d been able to successfully date women in my past, that’s not who I was. And it’s not who I ever would be.

Since we no longer were filming every day, there wasn’t necessarily a reason for us to get together on a daily basis. I can still remember the devastated look on your face when I suggested we spend some time apart.

I wanted to tell you why I needed space, but I wasn’t ready yet to talk about it. 

“I have to take care of some personal things.” It was the only way I could explain myself to you.

When you looked at me with tears in your eyes, I wanted to take back my request. But I knew if we were going to move forward, past my hang ups, I had to figure things out. So, I kissed away your tears and hugged you close.

The whispered, “I’ll miss you.” put a small smile on your face. When I hugged you again and added, “I’ll miss you every day.” the smile made its way to your eyes.

So, we went our own ways for a while. 

The first day, I pulled out my well-thumbed bible I’d had since I was thirteen. I read the verses our pastor had quoted to support the church’s stance on homosexuality. When I expanded my selection to multiple chapters in Leviticus, I realized that eating shellfish and wearing a cotton-poly blend shirt were also abhorrent to God. 

I’d been sinning without knowing it.

I thought about that for a long while and then sent you a text.

Me: _Remember when I said I’d miss you? Turns out I do. A lot!_

You responded almost immediately.

You: _I miss you, too. Hope your personal things are going ok._

I could feel how I’d hurt you from the way you phrased your text. I wanted to call you, to tell you that I was trying to figure myself out so that I could finally be free to be with you in every way. But I was afraid; maybe you’d think I was being silly. Or maybe you’d think I was too broken. Or maybe you’d decide I was too much work for too little involvement when it came to us.

A day passed. And then two. I read, I thought, I tried to meditate. Finally, at the end of day four, it became clear to me I wasn't going to be able to solve this on my own.

I grabbed my laptop and booted it up, accessing a browser. I looked for open and accepting churches in LA. I needed to talk to someone who would understand my struggle to accept myself. Once I found what I needed, I called the church and made an appointment for the next day.

Mentally, I was exhausted, so I went to my bedroom and curled up on the bed. A flood of hot tears dampened the pillow beneath my cheek. I cried for so many reasons, but mostly I cried because I was afraid that I would lose you as I tried to find myself. Finally, I cried myself to sleep and didn’t wake up for hours.

You were surprised when I called you later that night. But honestly? I couldn’t stand being away from you. You told me about your day, what you’d done, what you’d eaten, a chat you’d had with your parents. Your voice was low and intimate, making me feel warm and connected to you. 

When I awoke with my phone in my hand in the morning and couldn’t remember saying good-bye to you, I realized you’d talked me to sleep the night before.

Me: _Thank u for last night. Sorry for falling asleep. I missed cuddling with u._

You: _Your little snores were cute.  I missed cuddling with U 2._

Even though I knew my hair was jacked up from tossing and turning all night, I took a quick selfie of me blowing a kiss and sent it to you. You sent one back in which you held your hand to your cheek as though you’d caught my kiss and had placed it there.

Me: _U make me smile._

You: _I hope I see u soon so I can get a real kiss…_

Me: _Me 2_

I got ready early and then paced in my apartment. Time was passing so slowly; all I wanted to do was go to my appointment and get everything behind me. Finally, I left way too early and drove to the church. I had over an hour, so I went to grab some coffee.

I didn’t really need the caffeine; my hands were already shaking from anxiety. When it was close enough to the appointment time, I went into the building. I was greeted by cool air and that slightly acrid odor large, infrequently used buildings sometimes have.

I made my way to the pastor’s office and we introduced ourselves. He already knew the topic I’d come to discuss, so I tried to relax and let myself be open to the conversation. It wasn’t like me to immediately bare my soul to someone, but he had information I needed, so I didn’t really have a choice.

He listened to me for quite a while. I knew I was babbling and potentially not making a lot of sense, but I had so much to get off my chest, I just couldn’t stop myself from putting it all out there. When he leaned forward and passed a box of tissues to me, I realized I’d been crying as I spoke.

He asked me, as I dabbed at my eyes, how long I’d known I was gay. I closed my eyes and thought about it for a moment. “Forever” I finally whispered.

The silence in his office was deafening, and then he finally began to speak.

He spoke to me of a loving god, one who accepted all of us, the way we should accept ourselves. He talked of the basic tenet of all religions: to treat others as you would want to be treated. He talked of charity and being kind to others. 

I’d heard all of these things before. “There are rules. Expectations.” I whispered, “Abominations.” I had interrupted him and he looked at me thoughtfully before speaking again.

“Do you accept that you have a talent for acting and singing?” I responded affirmatively.

“Do you accept that your eyes are green and that you’re a tall man?” Again, I said yes.

“If you accept these innate, genetic things about yourself, why can’t you accept who you are, who you’re meant to be?” 

He didn’t wait for me to answer. “Jensen, you don’t have to be defined by what your parents believe. There are many ways to find meaning in the universe. What works for your parents doesn’t mean it will work for you.”

My heart nearly stopped when I realized the truth of what he was saying.

“Jensen, you’re a fine person. You’re meant to be exactly who you are. The only way you’re going to find happiness is if you’re true to yourself.”

Once again, he handed me the box of tissues. But my tears were not of sorrow this time; they were cathartic. I tried to let them wash away my doubts and fears so I could be who I was, without apology.

I shook hands with the pastor and he suggested we come by some time for service. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to continue in any kind of organized religion, no matter how affirming and open they were. I felt I was finally on a path to fixing the damage my parents’ beliefs had done; the only spirituality I needed I knew I could find with you, in your arms.

Before I left the church, I sent you a text.

Me: _Personal things are going well. Do you miss me?_

Moments later, you responded.

You: _Of course I miss you. Will I see you soon?_

Me: _I think you will. _

I drove right to your place. The smile on your face when you opened the door took my breath away.

When I pulled you in my arms and kissed you, you whimpered and I vowed that I wouldn’t shut you out anymore when it came to my struggles. When I deepened the kiss and pulled you closer, you let me take the lead. And I was finally ready. I ate at your mouth, our tongues entwined, my need for you apparent.

You followed me down the hallway to your bedroom and smiled as I pulled you in. We took off each other’s shirts, laughing a bit when mine got caught on your belt. When I hugged you to me and I felt our skin meet for the first time, I breathed out your name.

You moaned in response and pressed against me. I felt your hardness against my thigh and was filled with a desire to touch you. 

“I want you, Jared.” I whispered softly against your lips. I could feel what my admission did to you when you shuddered in my arms. I wanted to take you right then – I wanted anything and everything you’d give me. But I knew that we couldn’t go further until I shared my struggle with you.

I slowed our kisses and when I gradually pulled back, you looked at me. I could see the fear that I would pull away again mixed with your desire. When I told you I had to tell you about the personal things I’d needed to deal with, your face cleared and you pulled me close, ready to listen.

I laid my head on your bare chest and held your hand as I shared my pain with you.

My voice was flat when I told you about how I was raised. It was like I was narrating someone else’s story. I really talked to you, hiding nothing from you about my deep seeded fear and repression. When you cried for me, I wanted to tell you I didn’t need your pity; but when I looked into your eyes, I realized it wasn’t pity, but empathy, that spawned your tears.

You were raised differently, in a house where there was openness and honesty. Your parents didn’t care about image or archaic rules and godly regulations that were cherry-picked to fit an ideology. You were already out to your parents and they accepted you for who you were; and they’d accept who you loved.

Understanding this basic difference between us, you told me I was brave and I wanted to believe you. But part of me still felt selfish about disregarding my parents’ teachings while I took what I wanted with you. But whenever I looked into your eyes, I knew that whatever happened next would be worth it.


	4. Four

We were together when your agent called and told you that the series was picked up for the fall with an initial order of 13 episodes. Moments later, I received the same call. We held each other tight and I felt relieved. I knew then we’d be together in Vancouver for at least six months – hopefully more if they picked up the whole season and maybe even a second, if we were lucky. 

Your eyes were hopeful when you suggested, “We should get a place together.”

I wanted to; I really did. But I knew we had to be careful, so I held you close and said we’d have drawers in each other’s place. I know that hurt you, but it wasn’t that I didn’t want to share a home with you; I knew the industry wouldn’t want us to be that obvious.

Suddenly we were sucked into promo shoots and an appearance at the WB Upfronts. I can still remember your shaggy hair and your Texas belt buckle. I thought you were adorable but could maybe use a little guidance when it came to more formal attire. That’s a role I’ve been happy to play all these years.

Since shooting would begin in July, we agreed that we’d travel up together a little early in order to get settled. So we packed up our stuff and drove caravan style to Vancouver. True to our plan, we saved drawers in each other’s bedrooms for the other’s stuff.

We began shooting. The schedule was tough. Long days, reshoots. The unending waiting as the team set up shots, lighting, sound. We’d stand close and find ways to brush against one another, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted to take your hand in mine, pull you close, with no care or concern about who might see.

Instead, I settled for the small touches and needy looks. You’d drive me crazy with your ass shaking and naughty looks between takes and I’d make you pay when we got home.

The first time we went beyond hand jobs was our second night in Vancouver. When you took me in your mouth, I couldn’t look away. Your eyes burned into mine as I felt your tongue stroking me as you held me in the silky softness and heat behind your lips.

“Jared…” I tried to control my breathing but it was futile; since they day we’d met, I’d never had any control when it came to you.

When you watched me watch you drag your tongue up the length of me, I knew you could see how desperate I was for your touch. You held my hand as you increased your efforts and you took everything I had to give when I couldn’t hold back anymore.

The way you kissed me as I recovered made me feel completely free. “I love you.” My words were muddled, indistinct as my breathing evened out. You looked at me with wide eyes and asked me to repeat what I’d said.

“I loved that.” I lied, unable to tell you the truth.

You looked disappointed so I rolled you over and kissed my way down your body until I was ready to reciprocate. As I prepared to suck you down, I smiled at you and revealed a secret. “First time… be kind.”

You blinked back tears and gently guided me, showing me what you needed. I did my best to make you feel good. I did my best to show my love without saying the words. I watched you as you lost yourself in my touch and I swallowed as you pulsed down my throat.

I kissed you gently through the aftershocks. As the last one dissipated and you looked at me, I understood what you meant when you whispered, “I loved… that, too.”

We had started out eating lunch with the crew, but it wasn’t long before we’d head to your trailer, or mine, and we’d wolf down our food and then kiss desperately on the couch. At first, it was infrequent, but as Season One progressed, we spent more and more time alone in a trailer.

Our shooting schedule had a break at the end of July and we flew to LA together for the WB All Stars Celebration. It was our first event with something akin to a red carpet. As we posed for pictures, I couldn’t stop myself from putting my hand over your heart as we posed. You were mine, and unconsciously, I was making my claim known.

That was the first, but not the last, time we coordinated a color palette for our outfits. When I look at the pictures of us, your arm around my shoulders (staking your claim), I’m struck by how obvious our happiness with being together was.

I still remember the thrill I felt when you wrapped yourself around me, bringing your leg up and pressing close right there for everyone to see. Your actions were over the top and made people laugh, thereby reducing the intimacy of the act. I laughed as we broke apart, but we both knew what you’d done. For anyone looking close, it was clear there was something between us.

When we got back to the hotel that night, after you snuck into my room, we tore off one another’s clothes. When you slicked up your hand and wrapped it around both of us, I knew I’d never want anyone else.

We flew back to Vancouver and continued to shoot our show. We grew closer with each passing day and when Kim Manners said, “Jensen, Sam is Dean’s _brother_.” we realized that we weren’t fooling everyone. 

When you found me in my trailer later that afternoon, you held me close and told me it was ok, it didn’t matter. I wondered out loud why it was me who gave us away. You held my face in your hand as you kissed me softly, your whispered assurance to me of “It’s not just you.” may have been how you felt, but it wasn’t necessarily what came across on screen.

Like always though, you kissed my fears away and when the pilot premiered, we snuggled on your couch and watched it live. The next morning, Kim handed me a sheet of paper with a smirk. I read it and flushed crimson. You stood close to me and looked down, reading as my hand shook.

“That’s pretty good.” You strived for levity but already there were people who could _see_ what we felt; enough to write a fanfic in which two brothers crossed a major line.

I could feel all the doubts and fears from my childhood rushing back. You could see what was happening so you grabbed my hand and pulled me into your trailer as Kim Manners watched with a concerned look on his face.

As you kissed me and promised me it would be ok – that everything would be ok – I tried to stop my heart from racing. “People know.”

“No one knows, Jen.” you said, and I didn’t miss the look of sadness that crossed your face when you said it. You didn’t want to hide. I could feel that every time you brought Sandy to an event or fought your urge to reach out to me in public.

A knock at your trailer door gave us just enough time to break apart before Kim stepped up and in, closing the door behind him. He turned from the door and looked at us. I tried hard to read his expression, but he revealed nothing. I chanced a glance at you and could see you were trying to figure out what would come next as we waited for him to speak.

Kim cleared his throat and said, “Maybe this isn’t my place… but I’ve seen this before and I want to offer you both some advice.”

You and I both flushed red as we realized he knew. “Kim…”

He smiled at me. “Jensen, just listen. I don’t know how serious things are between the two of you. If it’s casual, I’d suggest you find somewhere else for… diversion. If it’s serious though, you need to understand that you’re going to have a hard road ahead of you.”

Kim ran his fingers through his hair. “I wish things were different, but they are what they are. So, try to tone it down a bit on set or you’ll risk not just your jobs, but the jobs of the entire crew. I respect the hell out of both of you and I know you’ll do the right thing.”

When Kim left, we sat together in silence. I wanted to scream about the injustice of the world. What you and I had was amazing, it was special. I didn’t want to hide how I felt.

When you looked at me with tears in your eyes, I wondered if I was doing the right thing by hanging onto you so hard. “Please don’t leave me” you begged, and I knew I never would, no matter how hard things might get.

We went back to the set and finished shooting. Between takes we were more subdued as Kim smiled his approval. Two weeks later, Kim toasted to our full season pick up and we smiled at one another, knowing that we had at least another four months together in Vancouver.

We spent Thanksgiving apart; you with your family, me with mine. Sandy joined you in San Antonio and I couldn’t suppress my jealousy of her place in your life. It wasn’t fair that she got to have you for the holiday while I had to accompany my parents to their church and listen to the hate-filled words of their pastor. 

When you’d call me, my mother would get a pinched look on her face. After I’d hang up, she’d sniff and ask if you didn’t have better things to do than bother your co-worker during the holidays. Her look of surprise when I told her I wanted to talk to you, that I missed you, emboldened me to stand up for myself.

When you suggested that we head back to Vancouver a day early, I changed my ticket and gave my parents a flimsy excuse that would not stand up to any real scrutiny. As I hugged my parents good-bye, my mom’s whispered “be careful, Jensen” froze my smile on my face. We both knew she wasn’t referring to my travels.

Your flight from San Antonio brought you to Dallas before heading to YVR. We grabbed a blanket from the flight attendant and held hands under it all the way to Canada. My last thought as you fell asleep in my arms was about my mother’s whispered warning. As you slid your leg over mine in sleep, I closed my eyes and pushed thoughts of her from my mind.

The next couple of weeks passed quickly and then filming wrapped up and we broke for the Christmas holiday. We were both returning to Texas for the two week break, so we decided to exchange gifts before we left. 

We cooked dinner together; or rather, I cooked and you did your best to distract me. A simple meal of Thai-style shrimp curry was something I knew you enjoyed and it made me happy to prepare it for you. We sat on your sofa after dinner and I hesitantly handed you your first gift.

When you saw the matching leather bracelets, your eyes lit up. I hadn’t yet told you precisely how I felt about you, but wearing matching jewelry was my way of telling you that I didn’t want anyone but you. You put mine on me first, leaving a soft kiss in the palm of my hand. I helped you with yours and then you pulled me into your arms.

When you whispered, “Now we belong to each other”, I could only nod against your neck, thankful you understood what I wanted.

Your second gift was a very nice bottle of wine. You knew how much I loved wine and my note said simply that I wanted to share it with you. Your eyes misted over when you read my I.O.U. promising you a weekend in Napa when the season wrapped up.

It was my turn to open your gifts. The first one was a View Finder – or Director’s Eye. I’d mentioned to you that I wanted to direct some day and you’d remembered. I pulled you into a tight hug and thanked you profusely. You just beamed at me as you told me you knew some day I’d be your favorite director.

When I opened your second gift, I didn’t understand it at first. As I looked at the box of condoms and lube I was almost embarrassed. We hadn’t yet discussed taking things to that level. When I looked up at you though, I saw what you wanted in your eyes.

“Jared…” I breathed out without meaning to.

You took my hand between yours and smiled. When you whispered, “I want you inside of me… tonight.” I thought I was going to lose my mind.

My heart raced as we kissed our way to your bedroom. In silence we slid each other’s clothes off our bodies as we continued to kiss. We kissed passionately as we worked our way under the covers; I wanted to make this time something special for both of us, so I took my time and worshipped you. 

My hand shook as I lubed my fingers. Your own fingers softly caressing my face calmed my nerves. I kissed you as my fingers worked to prepare you for me. Your moans were soft, full of need, and each one filled me with desire.

When I finally positioned myself above you, your pupils were blown and you were panting with need. My heart skipped a beat when you whispered, “First time… be gentle.”

I didn’t know if was the first time you’d gone this far with a guy or the first time you bottomed; it didn’t matter. You were mine now, and as I felt your heat envelop me as I buried myself inside you, I knew you always would be.


	5. Five

I had broken things off with my previous “girlfriend” and my parents were unhappy when I didn’t bring home a lovely young woman for them to meet over the year end break. I listened to them worry about time and opportunities passing me by; I’d be 28 soon and they couldn’t understand why I hadn’t settled down.

What they didn’t know was that I already had.

I was afraid they had their suspicions about us, but that didn’t stop me from calling you when I needed to hear your voice. Every call between us over the holidays quickly became an irritant to my mother and when it was time for us to return to Canada, I was more than ready to go. 

As I hugged my parents good-bye, they made it clear they expected me to find a nice girl and to start a family. When my mother told me again to be careful, she referenced you in her statement, saying that you’d hold me back from pursuing my true path.

They didn’t understand (and still don’t accept), that every path for me leads me straight back to you.

We started shooting again in January. After two weeks apart, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. You’d catch me looking at you with a hunger in my eyes and you’d dip your head and smile as you let me take you in. 

We were closer than ever and being with you in the dark of the night, letting you inside me or driving myself deep inside you, served to bring us to a new point in our relationship. The intimacy we shared was like a drug; I couldn’t get enough of you. 

When you asked me if we could put a name to what we shared, I whispered, “partners” and it put a smile on your face.

Not long after we resumed shooting, we flew to LA together for the Critic’s Choice Awards. When you ran over to me during an interview and gently touched my face with your lips pursed, I didn’t look surprised to see your face so close to mine. 

My instinct was to kiss you, but then I remembered… so I grabbed your hand and pushed it away, letting my fingers trail softly over the back of your hand as you retreated so you’d know that it wasn’t that I didn’t want you. For a moment, I was scared and on film it looked like irritation… but when I broke into a smile at your antics moments later, anyone who was watching closely would know that I loved you more than anything.

We were able to stay an extra day, so we hung out with my LA friends. You charmed them and I couldn’t stifle the pride that arose in me as I watched you integrate yourself with them. When Jason moved beside me and softly said, “He makes you happy”, I didn’t deny it. When I caught Danneel watching you, I could see her jealousy and I briefly wondered if I should have reached an agreement with someone outside my circle.

A week later, we walked the carpet at the WB TCA Party. Full of smiles and exceptionally tactile together, I couldn’t stop myself from covering your heart with my hand as the cameras flashed. You draped your arm around me and I fit myself to your side, unable to hide my happiness from the world.

Not even a call from my father the next day telling me to put some distance between us could touch my elation whenever we were together. 

We made a date for Valentine’s Day. We exchanged cards and shared a candle-lit dinner. We went back to your place and for the first time we danced together, holding each other as we swayed to the music. Later that night when you held me close as you slid deep inside me, your whispered “I love you, Jensen” was something I was finally ready to accept.

I told you I loved you, too and your eyes filled with tears of joy. I kissed them away, wondering why I’d waited so long to touch your soul this way. It wasn’t the first time my struggles to undo the conditioning of my childhood would impact the way I treated you, but I wanted it to be the last.

In March, we did our first Paley Fest. When I turned around and saw you in the press line, I couldn’t stop myself from pulling you into a hug, my cheek against yours. Your smile was huge as you held me close. I could feel your gratitude that I’d made the effort so I vowed I’d do it again when I had the chance. I never wanted to stop putting a look of happiness on your face.

In our panel, you joked about me thinking you were hot when I googled you before our audition. You weren’t wrong and you knew it so I could do nothing but agree that you were smokin’. We both know that I didn’t have to google you though; you’d already caught my eye long before we auditioned.

You laid your head on my shoulder as we pretended to sleep and later you puckered your lips and pretended that we might kiss. I pointed to the crowd and shook my head but when I heard how extensive the cheering of the crowd was at the thought of us kissing, I wondered if some day we might actually be able to come out. Sometimes I still do.

Fandom lore says that you guard me the way Dean guards Sam, and I can’t disagree. Without you by my side I feel exposed and vulnerable; that’s been true since the beginning and all these years later it’s never changed. It’s only when your arm is slung across my shoulders that I feel like I could do anything… _be_ anything… I’m invincible.

We wrapped Season One shooting in April and we worried about what would happen next. We’d lay entwined in your (our) bed and talked about what we might do if the show didn’t get picked up for Season Two. When you suggested that maybe we should just open a bar and live our lives as a couple, I considered it. I still do.

No matter what happened next, I knew one thing for certain: my future would include you.

We flew to London to do press for the European debut of our show. When you told the Norwegian press that I was the most famous person you’d ever made out with, I scoffed and then gave you a secret smile, knowing it was true. We went a little over the top with that interview and all of your talk about masturbation made me want to head back to my (our) room. Eventually, we did.

Because the show hadn’t yet premiered outside the US, we went to a gay bar together. It was late, it was dark and we knew that our anonymity was about to be nothing but a fond memory. No one recognized us and when you held me close as we danced, I knew without a doubt, I’d found my place at your side. 

When I look back, for me, I think the way we felt about one another was most apparent when we were at the CW Upfronts after our show was picked up for a second season. The night before, we drank as we watched the Mavs play the Spurs and when you took me up against the hotel room wall, I drunkenly revealed that you were it for me – forever – and that drove you into a frenzy. 

I could still feel that you’d been inside me the next day and I fucking loved it.

The next day we were completely hung over and more in love than we’d ever been. We managed to do an interview in the morning and later that day we walked the red carpet together. Our hair was messy and part of your front pocket of your jeans was pulled out from when I’d had my hand down there as we’d made out. It wouldn’t be the last time we’d take risks to be together when the opportunity arose.

I reveled in the way I fit beneath your arm. I knew it was where I belonged – where I’d always belong. I pressed close to you and the closer I got, the bigger your smile. I know how we looked – happy and satisfied with our show and each other – and I couldn’t stop myself from placing my hand just below your heart to make sure that it was clear you were mine.

When we were called to Vancouver earlier than planned, we didn’t question the summons; we just assumed that we’d be doing extra table readings or some other preparation for the season. With all the anxious calls from our agents over the previous months, it should have occurred to us that our big secret wasn’t as well hidden as we thought. 

When Kripke asked us to consider doing what was right for the show, we remained united in doing what was right for us. Knowing he was fighting a losing battle and that he had the upcoming season to plan, non-disclosure agreements became rote as a new cycle of guest actors were queued up for the fall. 

We knew we were on the studio’s radar (not in a good way) and sometimes I worried that I was going to ruin your career. I couldn’t help feeling responsible for our secret leaking out; I was older, I had more experience. But the truth was readily apparent: the way I looked at you (which was so far beyond my control) made what we (I) felt so obvious. 

I wished I had protected you better and when I poured my heart out to you, you laughed as you pushed me down on your (our) bed. “I’m just as guilty as you are,” you said and I wanted to believe you. You drove the point home with your whispered, “I _want_ people to know how I feel about you.” In all these years, you’ve never wavered in that.


	6. Six

Soon we were filming Season Two and our emotions ran high as our characters struggled with death and secrets on screen. We filmed scenes that took everything I had. When I had to walk away your arm around me gave me strength. I held your “great scene, man” to me as I leaned against your side; the counterpoint to my father’s future criticism. 

We didn’t yet know how difficult some of the episodes would be.

After the scene in Heart when Sam had to shoot Madison, I led you to my trailer and held you as you cried. I can remember thinking about how beautiful your heart was as I wrapped you in my arms. I was the only one who knew that your boisterous extroverted behavior was a shield you used to protect your fragile heart and I never, not once, forgot how privileged I was to see you as you really are.

The emotion of the season culminated in a scene that nearly broke me. When I (as Dean) held a dying Sam in my arms, my tears were real when I thought about what losing you, my precious love, would do to me. When I (Dean) held you (Sam), I tucked my head in your neck and ran my hand over your hair as I (Dean) cried. Sam was dead and your whispered “I love you” as the scene ended kept me from breaking apart.

In the fall of 2006, we went to the CW Launch Party. She was there as your date and I did my best to squash my possessiveness of you when she took my place beneath the comforting weight of your arm. I resented her. It should have been me there, pressed against you. It should have been me they called your “one”.

You knew how much I needed to _feel_ you and when you wrapped your arms around me as I did an interview, I said “I hate him” but the smile on my face told everyone that wasn’t true.

My dad had started calling me weekly to discuss my performance and provide feedback. I’d lay my head in your lap, my eyes closed as I’d listen to his critique. You’d softly stroke your fingers through my hair and when the calls were over, you’d pull me close, murmuring words of comfort when I’d wonder why he never found anything positive to say.

Thanksgiving rolled around and again we went our separate ways. We whispered words of love and made promises to call as our hug melted away. Every time we said good-bye I felt like a piece of me was missing until I would see you again. When you’d ask me if I missed you as we talked on the phone in the quiet of the early morning hours, I could only whisper yes as I’d rub my stinging eyes.

Our reunion was hot, desperate. “I want to tell them…” I gasped as you thrust yourself inside me. When your “Not yet…” registered, I knew you wanted to protect me but I didn’t want to go another holiday with my family where I’d have to pretend you were only a friend, a co-worker, someone who didn’t mean everything to me.

I shortened my visit home for Christmas, telling lies about needing to prepare for work, when instead I was spending those extra days with you, in your childhood home, where our relationship wasn’t a secret and I didn’t feel stained by the hateful words of a pastor my parents supported. Knowing I didn’t have to hide my love for you there began to free me from my past.

We went back home to Vancouver. On a magical night soon after, when the snow fell in large flakes and the glow of the sodium lights turned everything a faint pink, we went for a walk after midnight and held hands as we talked about the new year ahead. You looked so serious when you said you wanted kids. With me. When I agreed we should have at least three, you smiled and I knew I’d always give you anything you wanted as I lost myself in your embrace.

When the Cowboys made it to the Wild Card round, I surprised you with tickets to the game in Seattle. I booked a hotel room with a single king, smiling to myself when I pictured us there. We drove down and I held your hand; part of me wondered if we’d always be this way and when I watched you thread your fingers through mine, the sensuality of your touch told me everything I needed to know. The Cowboys lost, but as I buried myself inside you hours later, I knew without a doubt I’d won.

A couple of weeks later, we flew to LA for the TCA Awards. We mugged it up for the camera in our subtly matching suits. I grabbed your face and pursed my lips, inside I was dying to kiss you. You wrapped your leg around me and I looked down like you were crazy. It was the start of my feigning exasperation whenever you’d touch me in public; a ruse I’ve tired of over the years.

Our first (and only) on-set fight resulted in you walking away from me. You’ll never understand the desolation I felt as I watched you turn and leave me behind. I retreated to my trailer and cried until I could barely breathe. I wasn’t used to this feeling of separation from you and when I couldn’t stand another minute of it, I swallowed my pride and went to you.

The relief in your eyes when I knocked on the door of your trailer told me I’d made the right choice. You pulled me up and then into your arms as you closed the door behind us. We held each other tight and frantic apologies were whispered until our lips met and our desperation dissipated.

You got the news that you’d be working with Peter O’Toole and my heart swelled with pride as we watched Lawrence of Arabia to celebrate. I calmed your nerves with whispered assurances that you’d be great. It was potentially a 3-movie deal and we talked about our careers after our show ended. You wanted to do movies and I planned to direct. It’s ironic when you look at where we are now.

As the season wrapped, we did some press. When we admitted I gave you massages and that you got tense a lot (with the implication of additional massages clear), the angry calls of our agents and general disgruntlement of the studio weren’t enough for me to hide my love. You held my hand and said it didn’t matter; we were a team and whatever happened, we’d face it together.

I went to Asylum without you. Manns kept me company as a pined for you from across the pond plus the entire North American continent. Our calls were rushed due to time differences and schedules and so I could never get as much of you as I craved. I could feel my need for you growing and when Jason and I sang “Crazy Love” for the crowd, my thoughts were solely on you.

Being apart took too much out of us both and I vowed I’d never attend a convention without you again. It was a vow I wouldn’t be able to keep, but I didn’t know that then. 

As soon as I could, I rejoined you in Vancouver as you continued to film your movie. Every moment we shared, we made the most of because we didn’t have much time together as I prepared to go home to Dallas for a run of A Few Good Men. 

I was going to try live theater and you were sorry for not being able to make it down to support me. It couldn’t be helped (you had your movie) and I told you I understood, but inside I felt deflated; things meant more to me when we shared them. That’s why I loved (still love) working with you – we play off one another and I know our collaboration takes my acting to a new level.

I held you to me every night and I memorized your skin; I knew I’d need to be able to recall the texture of your skin and the touch of your hands to get me though our time apart. As I left for Dallas you kissed me softly and whispered, “I’ll see you soon.”

We weren’t together when we found out our show was renewed for Season Three. You called me, excited, after Spilo had called you. Lou Diamond Phillips walked by and said, “Say hi to Jared for me.” I got a lot of shit for how much time I spent on the phone with you; I didn’t care. I _had_ to have that connection with you. I never felt right when we were apart and neither did you.

Opening night was a great success and after I got back to my room, I called you and we talked until the wee hours of the morning. You were so happy for me and I remember thinking about how lucky I was to have a partner who supported me in everything I did.

My parents were initially mollified by Danneel’s presence at all of the performances. But when it was clear she wasn’t overly invested in what I was doing on stage, my mother took exception to her behavior. When my father asked me what I was thinking (in regard to “dating” her), I sniped back, “You’re the one who wanted me to find a girl and settle down. Girl found.”

On the second night, you surprised me by coming to the performance. As I took the stage, I looked to where I knew my parents would be in the audience and I almost flubbed my lines when I saw you there, sitting with them. It didn’t even matter that _she_ was there; I knew what you were doing. I had my “girlfriend” there and you brought your long-time “girlfriend” and as you charmed my parents, you gave them an easy out when it came to what was really happening between you and I.

After the performance, Danneel rode home with my parents and we dropped Sandy off at the airport so she could return to LA. We’d said we were going to dinner and that I’d be back later, but neither of those things were true. We went straight back to your hotel and spent the night losing ourselves in each other before you kissed me good-bye at 6:00 AM as you left for the airport.

When I walked in the door of my parents’ house, my mother was waiting for me. I closed my eyes and wished I had secured a hotel myself instead of staying with them. She asked me what I was thinking, staying out all night with you. I told her we’d had drinks with dinner so I’d crashed in your room. 

I could tell by the way she looked at me that she didn’t believe a word I’d said. And the look on her face when she saw the faint mark on my neck nearly stopped me cold.

“You stop what you’re doing with him right now, Jensen.” 

Her voice was like acid and it scared me to think that she could hate something (us) that much. I couldn’t speak so I just shook my head and went up the stairs. I could feel her eyes boring into me until I softly closed my bedroom door behind me, thankful for the separation it created.

My foray into live theater was soon over. As I hugged Lou Diamond Phillips good-bye, he clapped me on my back and whispered, “Don’t let go of him.” I remember thinking that he was a pretty understanding guy for someone whose wife had left him for another woman.

To placate my parents and to more firmly cement the idea of a relationship, I brought Danneel to Japan with me for the press tour. When I wouldn’t stop talking about you, she became resentful and told me that she was tired of hearing about you. In retaliation, I told even more stories about you and when I bought you jinbei, it nearly pushed her over the edge. When I gave her my credit card and told her to buy whatever she wanted for herself, the sly grin that appeared let me know I’d probably regret that kindness.

When we were finally reunited in LA, I felt like I could breathe for the first time in months. I was back in your arms and the disapproving eyes of my parents were thousands of miles away. You’d been working out and when I’d run my hands over you at night, I’d marvel at the hardness of your muscles beneath the softness of your skin.

When we went to the Xbox 360 Madden NFL VIP Premiere, your arm was a comforting weight on my shoulders and I felt like a million bucks (even though we were pretty scruffy and dressed down). When you put your arms and one leg around me, my face literally beamed happiness. It was the third time you’d basically climbed me in a press line and I fucking loved it. 

In July we returned to Vancouver and I made no pretense of moving my stuff to my apartment. I didn’t care anymore; all I wanted to do was be with you. We began filming and sometimes it was hard, because we knew where the episodes were heading: Dean’s death.

We were looking forward to ComicCon but at the last minute, you couldn’t go. I tried to be up-beat and I tried to hold my own, but every free moment, I had you on my phone and when Sera shook her head, I turned away and pretended I didn’t see.

Back in Vancouver, the cast and crew screened the gag reel together. When the scene of us working out rock-paper-scissors was played, I felt your fingers brush mine. Later, when we were alone, you pulled me to you and cried. When I asked you what was wrong, you looked at me and smiled. “Nothing… Jen, the way you looked at me in that clip… it’s like I was looking into my heart.”

You flew to LA for the Teen Choice Awards. _She_ was your date. When I saw the picture of her sitting in your lap, I wanted to scream. But when I looked at your hands hanging loosely without touching her, I smiled in satisfaction knowing that if it’d been me on your lap, your hands would have been wrapped around me.

TV Guide interviewed me. I talked about the show and I talked about you. We agreed that I’d take the opportunity to mention Danneel. I didn’t use her name but I stated I was dating an actress. I hated lying but we both knew it had to be done.

When TV Guide interviewed you, you mentioned you’d bought a house and you mentioned Sandy, but mostly you talked about our show and about me. We purposely tied our interviews together with a basketball reference.

My mother sent me a copy of your interview with your response to the question about whether you saw me enough on-set circled in red with a Post-It note plastered to it, which read, “I told you to be careful, Jensen. This will not be tolerated.” You read it over my shoulder and then angrily grabbed it and ripped it in two before furiously crumpling it up and throwing it in the garbage.

My eyes were shut against the pain and when you grabbed my hand, I blindly followed you to the bedroom. You laid me down and kissed me fiercely as you unzipped my fly. As you wrapped your fingers around me, you pulled back and waited for me to meet your gaze.

Your kaleidoscope eyes were full of love. “Your parents will never understand that beauty of what we have, Jensen.” As you brought me to and then over and into the abyss, I knew the truth of your words. With every touch, every kiss, I could feel the purity of your love and I knew without a doubt that nothing could be more perfect or right.


	7. Seven

When the writers went on strike, we were concerned about the future of our show. Deciding that we had no control over what would happen allowed us to take things one day at a time.

Our first Supernatural Convention was in Chicago. We started out standing at a fairly normal distance from one another, but over the course of the panel, we migrated together. When you hugged me I was so happy and I was unable to contain my satisfaction at your touch.

We laughed and told stories, unaware of how flirtatious we were with one another. We’d been together for over two years, going on three, but we were still desperately in love and wore our hearts on our sleeves.

When we returned to Vancouver, I told you I was going to tell my parents about us. This time, you didn’t stop me, although you were worried about what a confrontation with them would do to me. I’d thought all that through and decided to remove the opportunity for a confrontation by going old school.

I wrote a letter to my parents. In it, I confirmed their suspicions about you and I. I told them that we were together and had been together since the beginning. I acknowledged that they wouldn’t understand but that I needed them to know the truth before you and I began the next phase of our bearding.

I told them there were things about Hollywood they couldn’t comprehend and that I was having to do things to keep my career viable but they should never get their hopes up that things between you and I had changed in the event one or both of us got married.

I asked them to remember that I was their son. I asked them to continue to love and support me. I told them I’d understand if they felt they couldn’t; but that was a lie and we both knew it. But I wasn’t going to live my life trying to make them happy by making myself miserable in the process. 

I look back at that now and realize that whatever I wasn’t willing to do to please my parents, I was perfectly willing to do to secure not just our financial well-being but also that of the cast and crew of our show. I’d call myself a hypocrite but you and I both know the pressure of having a hundred people relying on us for their jobs. It’s been a responsibility we’ve always taken seriously.

My parents didn’t respond to the letter so you decided your parents should come to Vancouver for Thanksgiving. They stayed with us in your (our) house and when your mom hugged me, I cried because mine hadn’t even called.

You mom suggested that I come to your childhood home for Christmas. With no response from my parents, I agreed. We flew down together and unbeknownst to me, your mom had arranged for our families to spend some time with one another in Dallas. With your parents as a buffer, the dinner we shared was less tense than we’d expected.

We sat across from one another, instead of next to each other like a couple. A concession that I hoped I wouldn’t regret. Our sisters got along famously and your mom worked to get mine to let down her guard. My father insisted on saying grace and I let out a breath as I felt your foot against mine under the table.

Your parents went back to San Antonio and we stayed in Dallas for an extra day. I told my parents that we would be around if they wanted to see us. I didn’t really expect them to call but when the day turned into night and they hadn’t, you held me as I cried bitter tears. I was thankful for the acceptance of your family but hated having the knowledge that mine would never recognize you for who you were (are) to me.

As 2007 melted into 2008, you did a panel at Fangoria. You said, “I don’t kiss Jensen… in public.” I felt my heart flutter uncontrollably when I remembered what you’d said to me right before you kissed me for the first time: “I only kiss my friends when I’m playing a part in public, Jensen.”

I knew your statement was a message to me: that with me, you weren’t playing a part; that what we had was real; that there was nothing in your life more important than what we had and I fell in love with you all over again.

It was a message that I needed because the pressure from our agents and the show executives was becoming almost unbearable as they urged us to marry; not each other, of course, but they wanted you and Sandy to get serious and for me to double-down on Danneel.

You and Sandy planned a trip to Paris to support the story of a romantic proposal. Before you left, I nervously swallowed before dropping down on one knee. When I showed you the matching rings you hauled me into your arms and whispered that you’d been mine all along.

When you came back from Paris, you were indeed engaged, but not to whom people assumed. As Sandy wore the ring you gave her, you wore mine. Sometimes the pressure of keeping up the lie necessitated that we found our truth wherever we could.

 _She_ didn’t like you wearing my ring. I didn’t like that she didn’t understand her place in your life. I know you tried to get me to understand her losses and how much she needed a family, but publicly she had you and I felt (still feel) so strongly that it should be me there as your named partner, if only we lived in another place and time.

When we found out I had to go to Australia, with Danneel in tow, you cried in my arms. It was getting to be too much for you and no matter how much I assured you that I’d be back soon, the days in between drained you, leaving you vulnerable and alone. In order to give you the security you needed, Danneel left early. When a report of me buying her an opal to commemorate the trip made its way to your inbox, I had to remind you that the girls who helped us hide would always get certain spiffs but it didn’t mean anything or touch what we had at all.

We had special plans for my birthday. Now that you were publicly engaged, Sandy expected more from you in terms of time. She tried to interfere with our time together and it was the first time I’d ever truly seen you angry to the point where you couldn’t hide it. I couldn’t stop myself from reminding her that she was playing a role and the real engagement was ours. 

When photos of the two of you at a Lakers game hit the internet, there were rumors of trouble in paradise and secretly I was glad because I didn’t like how possessive of you she was becoming.

You were mine and I was yours and everyone in our private lives knew and respected that. Except her. We had our first discussion about whether or not she’d be appropriate as a beard. You didn’t change your mind but I knew I’d planted a seed.

Soon we were back at work (living together) and we celebrated you being named the lead for the Friday the 13th remake. All of our sacrifices were paying off and your career flourished. In order to reinforce the ruse, _she_ accompanied you to LA Con and EyeCon; they even had her do her own panels with the idea that your relationship would be highlighted.

I never told you (but I’m quite certain you knew), but having to listen to her talk about your lives (no matter how fake those stories were), my heart ached. It ached for you (because I could see the toll). It ached for me (because even knowing the truth it still hurt). It even ached for Sandy because it was clear to me that she was emotionally invested in you now, and maybe part of her believed eventually she’d be yours for real.

That led to our second discussion about whether she was an appropriate choice. This time, we walked through what wasn’t working and you told me you’d think about it. I’ve never told you what to do so I respected your need to think on your own.

When you told me you were going to move on from her, I pulled you into a hug. I knew we’d be facing a shit storm from every side when you broke it off, but I was so relieved. The one thing I’ve always appreciated about you – us – is that we make our decisions together and once we’ve decided on a course of action, if an adjustment is needed, we decide that together, too.

Given what would happen next, having that trust with one another was crucial in keeping us together.


	8. Eight

When we told concerned parties that Sandy wasn’t a viable option for the agreement you sought, panic ensued. Supernatural was renewed for Season 4 and we were signed through Season 5 with an option for Season 6, so we’d be playing brothers for the foreseeable future. 

The search was on to find the right person (woman) to pair with you. Until we found her, the studio introduced a new person to our lives: Clif. Part driver, part “body guard”, but mostly a babysitter for us to make sure that we were very careful not to out ourselves accidentally. We resented his presence (and still do), but we never had a choice in the matter. 

Well – we did have a choice. We could have split and then the studio, our agents, PR… would have left us alone. But – there was no way we’d ever separate ourselves from one another. It would be like ripping out a piece of our souls. We were so intertwined, sometimes I didn’t know where I ended and you began. It wasn’t the first (or last) time we’d pay a heavy price because we’d fallen in love.

Danneel was pissed because she’d expected that we’d soon follow you and Sandy with our own engagement. She was counting on the increased monthly stipend and the ability to better leverage my name that came with “marriage”. But you and I – we promised that we’d do things together so it wouldn’t do to have me go through with the original plan when you no longer had an agreement in place.

Sandy took the news hard. She wasn’t losing just you, she was losing your family, too. I tried to find some sympathy for her, but with the way she’d tried to come between us at various times… I just couldn’t do it. Imagine if I’d known then that we’d have those same issues with my side of the equation. I might have looked for another option, too. 

When I got the lead in My Bloody Valentine, you were thrilled for me. It seemed like our plans were coming to fruition and that the trade-offs we’d made to keep our careers viable were not in vain.

When we realized how much time we’d be apart due to our filming schedules, we both were overcome with anxiety. Since the first day we’d met, we’d never been away from one another for more than a week or two. Now you were going to be in Austin and I’d be in Pennsylvania for months… and neither of us knew if we could do it.

A week later, you broke down on-set; it was a well-guarded secret until you chose to reveal it many years later. A doctor was called and you were diagnosed with depression. For as well as I knew you, somehow I had missed the signs. You cried in my arms and finally told me how hard things were for you at times. As your partner, I felt inadequate and I was sorry as hell I’d let you down.

When you said it wasn’t about me, I didn’t understand at first. While I certainly had my issues, depression wasn’t one of them. You did your best to describe the feeling of hopelessness that would overwhelm you – even as you told yourself you had everything you had ever dreamed of. You were overcome by guilt because of how you felt when there were so many people who had far less than you just trying to get by. 

The guilt only served to exacerbate your hopelessness deep within you, and when the reality of being closeted had hit you as we discussed finding you a new “girlfriend”, finally it was just too much.

I still didn’t fully understand your pain (and even today I’d say that’s still true to some extent) – but, I vowed to you that I’d always be right by your side doing everything in my power to support you; whatever you needed, if it was within my power to provide it, I would. 

When you looked at me with relief in your eyes, I gently held your face as I kissed you softly; you were (are) so precious to me and all I wanted to do was love you. Even in your weakest moments, you’ve always been strong enough to let me at least do that.

As we shot the season finale, the emotional toll that Sam’s loss of Dean took on you bled into our personal lives. As you were trying to figure out how to deal with your depression, your character held his dead brother in his arms. Much like the year before, when my character had held his dead brother in his arms, the emotions that poured out of you _felt_ real.

Prior to the scene, we both took time to get into the mental state needed to pull off such an emotional scene. Thankfully the scene only took one take. As our character’s eyes filled with tears, I know how much we both were being emotionally drained. I worried about how the intensity of the scene would affect you, so although I didn’t have to, I stayed in the scene as they got their last shots of a destroyed Sam crying over his brother.

When we heard “Cut”, I immediately pulled you into my arms as you continued to cry. I rocked you and then covered your face with soft kisses as I tried to pull you back from the edge. I still remember how desperate you were for my touch. As your sobbing subsided, I pressed my lips to your temple. Finally, when I knew you were ready, I kissed you gently and whispered “I love you” against your lips.

I think that was the moment when the crew realized that we were it for each other; forever. I was still holding you when Jim Beaver came over and laid a hand on each of our shoulders. He told us that the scene had be amazing and then leaned closer and squeezed our shoulders as he said, “I’m so glad you two have each other.”

Frankly, it was nice to finally have someone firmly on our side. We’d withstood so much adversity when it came to our relationship, we couldn’t hide our surprise from him. He just smiled and said, “Don’t let anyone tear you apart” before he stood and walked away.

Our last days together before leaving Vancouver were full of frantic love making, tears, holding hands and promises that we’d do anything we had to in order to keep our relationship strong.

When the time came, we went our separate ways – me to Pittsburgh and you to Austin. We talked multiple times a day and our co-stars soon noticed. We tried to ratchet it back, at least while we were on-set, but my heart (your heart) demanded the contact so the best intentions resulted in no discernible change. 

You talked to me (again) about Austin and I’d listen to you as we’d talk each other to sleep at night. You told me about the culture and how different it was from Dallas. Liberal, educated, open and accepting. “We could make a home here someday” you said repeatedly. 

I loved the way you dreamed of our future; you always had so many plans and while I’d always been happy to take things day by day before I met you, I was touched by your commitment to _us_. You made long-term plans, and they always included me. 

I don’t think I’ve ever really told you just how safe that makes me feel. I have a place I belong and I know I always will: by your side, fitted just underneath the weight of your arm.

I wasn’t able to make it to DallasCon that year, but you were able to travel up from Austin. You planned to announce your “break-up” with Sandy and I asked my parents to make an appearance as a sign of solidarity. I still wasn’t talking to them about us and the relationship we’d built. My weekly calls with my father only involved his critique of my work on Supernatural; never anything about you or my letter from the year before.

Surprisingly, my parents went. They couldn’t help but like you as a person, no matter how much they hated what you and I shared. They knew that if they wanted to maintain any kind of relationship with me, they’d have to find a way to be civil to you. My mother liked that their appearance would show what good people my parents were, being there for my “friend” when I couldn’t.

When shooting wrapped on our movies, we immediately returned to LA. We laid low at your place and spent our time reconnecting. Being with you made me whole again. Whenever we’re apart, for me it’s always been difficult. It’s like I have a battery that can only be charged by you, and when we’re not together, the charge is drained. Skyping, texting and regular phone calls can prevent my battery from hitting zero, but it will never be fully charged unless I’m by your side.

After you’d announced your break-up with Sandy, there was a lot of speculation as to why so soon after getting engaged and after so many years of dating, suddenly it wasn’t right. Those speculating decided that you must have strayed. You were bothered by the rumors that you’d cheated on Sandy and while we both knew that nothing could be further from the truth, you hated that people thought you would ever be disloyal.

The fact that the studio and your agent loved the rumors because they were heterosexual in nature only served to anger you more. You wanted to address them but together we came to the conclusion that we’d just let sleeping dogs lie; there was no winning that battle.

I flew home for a quick weekend visit to Dallas; I felt obligated to spend a couple of days with my parents after they’d taken the time to support you. When I walked into their church with them (because I was expected to go), I tried to let the sermon about the evils of homosexuality roll off my back. 

As the pastor droned on and my mother looked at me, pointedly, I shut them out and thought about how good it had felt to have you deep inside me when we returned to LA. When it came to the battle to secure my soul, you’d already won.


	9. Nine

When shooting Season Four began, we returned to your (our) house together. We met with Kripke and Singer. They wanted you to meet a new actress named Genevieve Cortese, who would be playing Ruby. It was clear they had a reason for this pre-meet and when Suzanne Gomez cornered you after the fact, it was obvious they’d done some digging to find you a new “love interest” who was fully sanctioned by the studio and PR-approved.

You said that **we** would think about it – and I really loved you for that. You sent them the message that if you accepted their suggestion, it would be because you and I had decided. Together. It was clear to me back then that they didn’t realize just how committed we were to one another. We were a team – not just on screen – but more so off screen. 

They didn’t know it, but we’d been meeting with financial planners all along, making provisions for one another in the event that something happened to one of us. We carefully saved and decided on investments together. Whether it was in your name or my name; it didn’t matter because when it came right down to it, we were one.

We were (and still are) simple guys at the end of the day. We both agreed that as long as we had each other, money didn’t matter. Of course, we were both aware that we were extremely fortunate to be in a position where we had enough money that it became one of the few things we didn’t have to worry about. There’s a certain freedom in that.

It gave us power. We could walk away at any time and live off of our investments, start a business, just _do_ something else. We didn’t _have_ to work. But we wanted to and in order to so – to pursue what we loved while we were in love, we’d have to continue to compromise. We always said that when we were no longer able to continue the charade, we’d walk away. We haven’t yet. But… maybe soon. 

But I digress.

Things with Sandy were still pending in terms of finalizing the dissolution of your agreement. While I shot episode three, you and she went off to Hawaii to try to find an amicable end. I said I was fine, that everything was ok and I completely understood why you needed to go off the grid. 

Would it surprise you to know I’d lied? Knowing that _she_ was getting all that time with you (even though it was a bonus all-expenses paid trip that had everything to do with your agreement and nothing to do with where you wanted to spend your time). I wasn’t happy about it. At all.

I threw myself into my work and took comfort in our nighttime calls. Things were tense between you and her during the first few days. But when you finally came to a resolution, I could hear the change in your voice and knew you would be home – with me – soon.

Once you were home, we reconnected, which for us always involved a lot of frenzied sex followed by snuggling and soul kissing. I had always hated my lips… until the day you told me that you couldn’t get enough of them. Even to this day… the way you kiss me… the way you take your time and press your lips against mine. I can feel every bit of your love with every gentle push and lick.

I can’t remember who said it fairly recently, but at one of the cons, Matt or maybe Gil said my lips always looked glossy – like they had their own moisturizer. I know how pissed you get when other guys talk about my lips, but the funniest part about his statement is that if my lips look shiny and slick, the chances are very good it’s because you’ve been spending the last few minutes kissing me, nibbling on my lips, loving them with your own. Oh, if the con attendees only knew…

I seem to have digressed once again, but when I’m talking about how you love me… I’m so fucking easily distracted.

September rolled around and we were so excited about our matching NHL jerseys. They had our last names in capital letters on the back. When you told me you wished we could both get Padalecki-Ackles on the back, I was both thrilled and devastated all at the same time.

We went to the Red Bull Soap Box Derby and we stood too close, spent too much time by ourselves and generally didn’t give a shit about what anyone thought. You won our race and gloated a bit. I gave you a look to let you know you’d be paying for that later, which only made you gloat more. You were egging me on because you wanted to know I’d been inside you the next day. 

I was glad our jerseys were long because knowing what you wanted later had an immediate effect on me. Neither of us was a constant bottom, although we both had times when we wanted to give ourselves to the other. You liked to tease me with your ass shaking and naughty looks, though, so it was more frequently you who let me inside. And, I’m sure it comes as no surprise to you when I say there’s no place (still to this day), I’d rather be.

BuddyTV came to the set. We let it be known we were living together (knowing we’d pay for that indiscretion later) and you talked about my crush on you. I wasn’t mad at you for saying I had a crush; we were still trying to find ways to be true to us amidst all the lies and you weren’t wrong when you compared my feelings for you to Desperately Wanting, even in jest.

You said I had a pretty little ass and that didn’t make Kripke & Co happy. But I loved that you let that slip because I think we both know just how much you love my ass when push comes to shove, as it often does.

Not long after, Kripke created a comic for Supernatural Rising Son. He called it “The Beast with Two Backs”. Having read Othello in high school, we both understood that he was essentially giving us an out, if we wanted it; or at least, acknowledging our truth whether or not people understood it. We weren’t ready to change things yet, so we let it go without any commentary.

After you rambled about our living situation at EyeCon, we decided that we’d need to spend some time developing a narrative to explain our situation without giving too much away. We’ve gotten better as the years have passed, although there are times when we’ve slipped up because we’ll get into telling a story and forget that we’re not actually out.

When the studio got a hold of the video of you talking about us living together, they wanted an answer about Gen. You’d had a chance to spend a bit of time with her on-set and she seemed nice enough so we asked for a day to think about it.

We talked about the pros and cons. Maybe it was a happy accident that she went by “Gen” and you called me “Jen” (pro). It would at least make telling stories easier, as long as we remembered to keep the pronouns straight (so to speak). You didn’t really know her (con) but she wasn’t emotionally invested in you and had her own thing going on (pro). Working together on the show gave you a plausible place to fall in love (pro).

We decided to go ahead with the arrangement, which the two of you signed on the 24th of October, 2008. That would become known as the date on which you two had your first “date”. When I look back now, I just close my eyes and shake my head. Sometimes I still can’t believe everything we’ve had to go through to get where we are now.

With your agreement in place, we flew to Chicago for the convention. We held hands underneath a blanket all the way there. We flew in the night before and we spent the night on the town. We went back to our hotel, a little (a lot) tipsy, and you just walked right into my room (no sneaking for once) and then pulled me onto the bed.

We enjoyed a couple of hours of frenetic sex. I could never (still can’t) get enough of you. Sometimes it scares me that I need you so much and in so many ways. But mostly I remain thankful that the universe brought you to me. When you fell asleep in my arms, I traced your features lightly with my finger, marveling at just how beautiful you were (are). Everything about you is perfect, for me.

The next morning we did our panels. I joked about writing a book called “Waiting on Jared.” Years later, I’d joke about writing another book after ten years with you: “Still Waiting on Jared.” You and I both know that no matter what you do, no matter where you go… I will always be right here – waiting on you. We flirted our way through the panel. Knowing that you had another agreement in place made us slightly less cautious about our interactions.

When a fan wished you luck in your pursuit of me, you took it in stride. That was easy enough to do knowing that your pursuit of me had successfully concluded nearly 4 years previously. We had a laugh about it later. Knowing that there were people out there who could _see_ the truth made our subterfuge less oppressive.

Soon the holidays were rolling around again. We went to your parents’ house for Thanksgiving. Your mom and sister were working with us on plans for our commitment ceremony. We’d picked a date of March 21st, 2009 (marking 4 years since we finished filming the pilot episode) and decided that we’d have it at our house. We were so excited to stand up, in front of friends and (your) family to commemorate our love.

Marriage equality had been the law of the land in Canada since 2005 and your eyes filled with tears when I suggested that we should consider potentially coming out after it became legal in the United States. It would depend on what we were doing then: would we still be filming our show? How long would it take before the US changed its laws? At the time it seemed like we were decades away from that. Lots of variables to consider, but you appreciated that I wanted to revisit our earlier decisions.

On Thanksgiving morning, your mom caught us kissing in the kitchen. You’d started the coffee and I came up behind you and wrapped my arms around you. You turned around and pulled me to you, holding me close. You kissed your way from my neck to my lips and you were doing that thing where you sensually love my mouth with yours when we heard a happy sigh.

I was so embarrassed but your mom looked wistful and pleased. “So in love…” she said with a smile.

You wrapped me up in your arms and I could hear the smile in your voice when you said, “More than anything, momma… I love him so much.”

She came over and hugged us both. Tears sprang to my eyes when she whispered, “Thank you for making my boy so happy, Jensen.”

That one moment of kindness would be what carried me through the day and a half we’d be in Dallas. For the first time, I was bringing you with me. At least to the area. I’d booked us a hotel and we were trying decide if you’d go to their house with me. I wanted you there but I didn’t want them to hurt you or shame you for our relationship.

We decided to invite my parents to dinner on us. When my mother refused to go out with us in public if we didn’t have our “girlfriends” with us, I told her that if she changed her mind, she could give me a call. You and I went out on our own and I was surprised when my mother called me a couple of hours later to invite me over for dessert.

I told her I was with you and that we would be happy to swing by. After a long pause, a resigned “fine” was as good as it was going to get. You held my hand all the way there and you left a kiss in the palm of my hand as I turned off the car.

When you told me you loved me, I smiled at you and said, “I count on that every day.”


	10. Ten

Your publicist called. A date had been arranged for you in NYC to be seen with your new “girlfriend”. You begged me to come with you, saying that it wouldn’t be right for you to go and for me to stay behind. I knew you needed me, so we flew to NYC separately in mid-December and I waited for you to come back to our hotel once you’d been spotted and photographed at the gallery. 

We didn’t know it then, but this kind of scenario would play out for us over and over as the years went on.

From NYC, we returned to Texas for the holidays. I deplaned in Dallas and winked at you as I turned the corner to leave the plane as you continued on to San Antonio. I knew I’d be with you again in two days and then everything would be right. I could make it until then, even though my heart was heavy from knowing that I couldn’t bring you home with me.

Gen joined you and your family in San Antonio and Danneel joined mine. My parents tolerated Danneel and were thankful for the female presence at my side. Your parents resented Gen, viewing her as a symptom of a Hollywood disease: hypocrisy. Hollywood told liberal stories to people, demanding they respect the views that Hollywood itself would never support in its acting talent.

The complication of our agreements meant that we’d have to spend holidays this way for quite some time to come. Spending a holiday alone with one another was all we wanted – but we wouldn’t get to do that for another six years (although we didn’t know that then).

Once we’d both been spotted with our respective “girlfriend”, the girls were free to leave and we spent the rest of the holiday with your family before heading back to Vancouver to resume shooting. We relished our time together, knowing that we both had movies premiering soon, and would have to navigate the press gauntlet that came with it.

In January, we flew to LA and Danneel accompanied me on the red carpet. I reminded you not to look at photos of us after the fact, if you could avoid it. I could see how much you hated seeing me with someone who wasn’t you, especially since people believed she and I were together. That bothered you most of all – that people imagined she and I alone together, being intimate, when the reality was so very different.

You snuck into the theater and took your place by my side. We found a way to touch without being obvious and you held my hand as we watched the movie. The way you’d sensuously run your thumb back and forth in my palm affected me (as you knew it would) and when you whispered, “you look so hot!” I knew that we’d be up late that night.

Not long after we got back to Vancouver, we got the devastating news that Kim Manners had died. We held each other and cried; he’d been a great mentor to us both. His death left a hole in our hearts and even to this day, we still miss his guidance and friendship. 

You’ve often said that Supernatural wouldn’t have been the show it was without him, and I cannot disagree.

We flew to LA for the premier of Friday the 13th. We brought our “girlfriends” and you walked the press line alone, unwilling to unveil your new “relationship”. You have no idea how much I wanted to be by your side; I still feel that way now and as the years have passed it bothers me more and more that we can’t just walk the carpet, holding hands and showing others who we really are.

We stayed in LA for Valentine’s Day. Our agents urged us to go out separately with our “girlfriends”, but instead we made dinner together at my place and I can still remember your smile as I gave you a rose I’d picked up earlier in the day. When you looked at me as you held the bloom to your nose, I once again found myself lost in the kaleidoscope beauty of your eyes.

You pulled me into a hug, whispering “I love you” as you held me close. I relaxed into you, knowing that in just a little over a month we were committing to one another forever. Legal or not, it would mean something to us. At the time, I think we both thought that day would be the _big commitment_ to one another. I realize now that the bigger commitment was the day we decided to make our all of our decisions together. 

The biggest commitment of all is the one we still make to one another every morning as we get up and face the world together – united – even though we’re unable to acknowledge that openly. Hiding is hard, but one thing I’ve come to learn over the years is that I will literally do anything just to be with you. When it’s just you and I alone in our room, as I hold your hand in mine, I know there is no one else who could have gone on this journey with me.

A couple of weeks later, we got the word that season 5 was a go. We celebrated with steak, as we often do. When you raised your glass and said, “Here’s to another 5 seasons!” my smile faltered as I thought about what another 5 seasons would mean: more lies, more subterfuge, more formalized bearding.

I could see the hurt in your eyes when I hesitated before finally raising my glass. I leaned in and you could only nod when I whispered that it wasn’t that I didn’t want to work with you, but that I just wanted to be with you. I could see what it meant to you and it wasn’t long before we paid our check and went home.

You cried when I slid myself into you. We were both scared about the future and the choices we’d have to make. When you said, “Jen… I just want to hide…” I did my best to kiss your fears away, while ignoring my own. We’d been together for four years and we’d already hidden so much from so many. I wondered just how long we could keep up the charade.

Honestly, it seems a little funny to me now, that I thought things were hard then. I look at our lives and where we are today and it’s not lost on me that we’ve built a house of cards. We’ve gotten pretty efficient at placing the cards, often hiding in plain sight, but it wouldn’t take much for it all to come crashing down. Some days, I feel like pulling out a base card myself.

Three weeks later, we stood in our backyard holding hands as we faced one another. We’d written our own vows and I cried as you looked into my eyes and told me about how you’d loved me since Day One. When it was time to kiss, you stepped up to me and gently framed my face with your hands. I heard your mom sigh and sniff in happiness as your lips softly caressed mine.

Sometimes when I’m sad or I’m having a bad day, I’ll close my eyes and remember the love that radiated from you in that moment just so I remember what I’m fighting for: you, us, _this_.

Having our friends and your family celebrate our love with us felt good. Right. We had to hide so much from so many people, but with everyone who was there to support us, we could be the way we wanted to be: young, happy, so deeply in love that some of our friends had remarked that it was like there was no one else on earth whenever we went off together.

I expected to feel different after that day. About you, about us… maybe even about me. But while the day had been romantic and freeing in so many ways, I finally understood that with or without a formal commitment, you were mine and I was yours. And it’s still that way even today.

A week later, we flew to Chicago for a convention appearance. As usual, we flew in the night before and went out on the town together. In our minds, we were married now and our alone time was something we’d always cherished, but it seemed to hold more meaning now. 

Even when we weren’t alone – and especially while we were on stage – I’d look at you and you’d look at me and we’d know we had made a public declaration in front of those who could know: we were here to stay. We flirted our way through our panels and went back to our home to wrap up the season.

Entertainment Weekly did an interview with us and they asked if we’d do another 5 years. We were both tired of the lies and the struggle of trying to hide just how close we were. Those emotions came through in the interview. When I go back and read our responses indicating that it was highly unlikely that either of us could do another five years on the show… I can’t do anything but laugh. I mean – just look at us now.

After the second season of Supernatural wrapped, you and I had gone to Oregon and I had taught you to golf. You weren’t necessarily the best, but I was thrilled you wanted to share it with me. After the fourth season wrapped, we headed to Oregon. We spent our days playing 18 holes and our nights wrapped up in each other.

We went back to LA and settled in for the hiatus. We had lots of conventions planned so we took our alone time whenever we could. When an enraged Spilo called about our joint mortgage on our house getting out into the press, you ignored him and hung up. When I asked you if you wanted to refinance it in just your name to quiet the speculation, you shook your head and buried your face in my neck.

It had never occurred to either of us that every single thing we did would be scrutinized at that level. We talked about how we’d have to be far more careful with our investments and we reached out to our lawyer to set up a strategy to better hide our tracks. LLCs and trusts would become our best option for trying to manage perceptions around our relationship.

With another crisis behind us, and feeling better about our ability to calm the waters, we prepared to head to Australia. We didn’t know how close to being exposed that trip would bring us; but that’s a whole other story.


	11. Eleven

We landed in Australia and went directly to the hotel. We took a shower together, anxious for contact after so many hours of travel without it. You laid me out on the bed and slowly made love to me, taking me to another place where we were free to love without restraint. 

The convention wasn’t well organized, but we didn’t care. You busted in on my panel and I couldn’t hide how happy your presence made me. During the charity auction, I made a shirt. I smiled to myself as I wrote on the white tee with a Sharpie. 

When I held up the shirt, which said “I’m With Stupid” and had an arrowing pointing to you, I looked at you smugly, feeling pretty good about saying I was with you in public for once. You dipped your head, running your hand through your hair as you laughed at my hijinks. 

We flirted and bantered and I was just so fucking happy to be there with you, I didn’t even care when Misha busted in on our panel. Until you asked him to sign your shirt (which I was fine with) and he bent you over and put you in a position you should only be in for me (which I most certainly was not fine with).

You tried to stand but Misha pushed you back down and you just went with it to avoid causing a scene. I wasn’t above that though. I was filled with a rage like I’d never known before or since. He knew about us – he’d had to sign an NDA – so he knew exactly how things were. The complete lack of respect for you, for me, for _us_ infuriated me and I couldn’t hide it.

I tried to. I ducked my head and turned away, willing myself to calm down but what I really wanted to do was to stand up, walk over to him and punch him in his fucking face. No one touches you like that, except me. You and I both know that anyone who truly knows us understands that. 

But he didn’t care.

You tried to placate me, but I was still so enraged, I stood up and walked away. I could feel your eyes – your concern – but I needed to pull myself together. Eventually I came back to where you were. I could see the contrition in your eyes, but it wasn’t you I blamed.

You offered the sleeve of your shirt for me to sign in order to drive up the price. Very purposefully and deliberately I signed right over your heart. It was mine, after all. And Misha bloody well knew it. So I claimed it right in front of everyone in attendance.

After I signed your shirt, you returned to your seat. I wanted to look at you, but I could see Misha on the other side of you and every time I looked in your direction, I had to look away if he moved into my line of sight. He was going to hear from me after the convention closed, that much I knew.

We took the last question of the panel and my heart stopped when the question, “Is it weird playing brothers when you’re lovers in real life?” rang out through the room. We looked at each other and then you tried laughing as we realized it was Misha attempting an Australian accent.

We said good-bye to the fans and went back stage. When I saw Misha, I strode over to him and threw him up against the wall. I was nearly rabid with anger at his disrespect and lack of professionalism. I didn’t say a word to him, but then again I didn’t need to. I could see the fear in his eyes as I pushed him again before letting him go and turning away.

You followed me to our limo, saying nothing. The ride back to our hotel was silent, as was our ascent to our room. As I closed to the door behind us, you began to apologize. I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t need to. It wasn’t your fault. I grabbed your hand and led you to the bed.

You were quiet as I ripped your clothes off of you. When I had you naked, I waved toward the bed and you slid beneath the sheet, watching me as I quickly disrobed. I slid in next to you and neither of us said a word for quite some time. Our moans and whispered pleasure disrupted the silence, but it wasn’t truly broken until I was buried deep inside you, my breath hot against your ear. 

“You’re mine, Jared.”

As I began to pound into you, you gasped out, “I’m yours, Jensen.”

We spent a few extra days in Australia. Thankfully, we were able to get lots of alone time. I loved the way you watched the koalas and kangaroos, completely enraptured with a huge smile on your face. I’ve always loved the way you are with animals. They’ve always spoken to the gentleness in your soul.

We were together on a different continent when pictures of you with Gen surfaced. While the fandom was squeeing about the two of you, we were making love half a world away and both of our “girlfriends” were the last things on our minds.

When we got back to LA, we laid low, content to be with one another. Carlson was playing a gig and you suggested that it was a good opportunity for me to be seen with Danneel. I reluctantly agreed and arranged it, all the while thinking about how weird our lives were getting.

When Gomez suggested we join Twitter, we both laughed and ignored her. Suddenly, Misha had an account and started picking up followers. We thought nothing of it at the time, but later? We’d regret letting that whole thing spin out of control.

Danneel called one day, asking for some help. Since she was helping me, I did what I could to help her. She was thrilled when she got a second chance on One Tree Hill and I was glad that she had a distraction that gave us an excuse to spend time apart.

At the end of May, we were headed to the UK for Asylum 2009. We were instructed to bring our “girlfriends” and the show organizer ensured that they had plenty of air time. Luckily it was a long flight and we had enough time to coordinate stories and determine things to talk about that seemed “couply” with the girls. 

Prior to the trip, we were told to tone down the flirting at the convention. We just rolled our eyes and said we’d try. When we got there and understood the set-up, though, it was clear they were serious. Gomez’s last instruction to me before we left was to play up the fact that I was moving out of your house. I told her in no uncertain terms that I most certainly was not moving away from you. I could see by the look on her face though that things were getting serious.

“We’ve got an option to go through season six and we mean to keep it going. Do the math.” Her words were sharp and her expression told me that if I wanted to keep my career in good standing, my narrative would have to change. I didn’t say anything to you before we left. I couldn’t. My heart was breaking and I was overwhelmed with a sense of shame as I considered the compromises we’d already made.

We did our best to get through the panels and later that night in our room, you broke down in my arms, as you begged me not to move out. I cried as I begged you not to cry, kissing away your tears as my own slid down my cheeks. I promised you I’d never leave you and to this day, I never have. 

We didn’t sleep much that night as we contemplated what the future might entail for us as the studio, PR and show execs worked to drive a wedge between us. We would never let them break us, we vowed as we held each other tight.

When we got back to LA, we were instructed to spend more time with the girls. We wanted to rebel, to tell everyone to go fuck themselves. Not for the first time, you suggested we just retreat – leave Hollywood, go build a life together – and we considered it. We still do.

Back then, we were under contract through season 5 and they had an option for season 6, so if we wanted to preserve our careers, we had to see it through. So like good little boys, we dutifully fulfilled our obligations to the Powers that Be by arranging “dates” with the girls, taking them to places where we thought we’d be recognized (separately, of course), trying to get some sightings in before hurriedly returning to my place at the end of the day to lose ourselves in one another.

No matter how late it was, we always found a way to end the day together if we were in the same town. We had two rules: one – never go to bed angry, and two – never sleep apart if we could avoid it. In all these years, we’ve never wavered from them. 

At the end of June, Danneel and I traveled to Oregon with Kane. It was widely reported that we were seen there together. Videos were posted of me singing with the band and our duty was done for another couple of weeks. Back at the hotel, Danneel went to her room to pack so she could return to LA, and I went to mine. You were there, waiting for me and I gratefully wrapped myself up in your love.

We rented a car and drove back down to LA, stopping along Highway 1, spending two romantic evenings watching the sun set over the Pacific as we held each other tight. When we got back to LA, it was time to pack up and head back to Vancouver to start filming season 5.

During our drive down the coast, we agreed that if Supernatural wasn’t picked up for season 6, we would take some time for just us before deciding how to manage our careers going forward. We were hopeful that we’d be done with the show and the lies about the girls and we’d be able to be free.

It wasn’t meant to be though. On-set for the first day of shooting, Kripke pulled us aside and told us he already had approval for season 6, so they were extending our contract with the option we’d signed. Your eyes filled with tears when Gomez came in and talked about the next step on the bearding front. I thought you were going to sick when she said the word “marriage”. I felt the same way. We were already married and it was painful to know that none of these people cared about that in the slightest.

I was so proud of you when you stood up to her, saying that you were not going to marry anyone who wasn’t me. I could see your emotions roiling and I knew if I didn’t do something, the woman in front of us could destroy your career if you got too out of line. I felt the tension in you as I reached over and took your hand in mine.

“Give us time.” My voice was soft and one again I heard the specter of my father in my head telling me to be a man.

She left us alone and the look of desperation you sent me nearly broke me apart.

“Jensen… I can’t…” The raw emotion in your voice brought tears to my eyes. I couldn’t either… but we didn’t have a choice, or rather, we didn’t have a choice that wouldn’t blow up everything we’d built together.

I pulled you to me and felt you trembling in my arms. I closed my eyes tightly, causing my tears to fall. When I told you everything would be ok, you shook your head no and I couldn’t disagree. But we’d always found a way to make things work and I knew that we could do anything – as long as we stuck together like we always had.

Little did we know, marriage was just the beginning of a new level of duplicity that would be our existence right up until today.


	12. Twelve

When we had to promise to tone things down to keep Gomez off our backs about marriage, I felt sick. One thing I’ve never really been able to do is hide how I feel about you; whether it’s looking at you with longing or desire evident on my face or the sheer bliss in my smile when I’m with you, how I feel about you is always right there if someone wants to see it.

You were always better at hiding your emotions. That was a positive when it came to us, but it was less than desirable when it came to your mental state, which worried me and still does today. But during the time we were getting pressured to consider marrying the women masquerading as our girlfriends, you couldn’t hide how you felt and seeing you so distressed broke my heart.

So, we promised we’d be good, Clif doubled up on his detail and things were going ok, until Ted Casablanca posted a series of J2 videos less than four weeks after we began filming Season 5. It was his first real attempt at outing us. How we’d drawn his attention, we didn’t know, but it didn’t matter; as soon as the studio execs, show execs and Gomez found out about it, we were right back in front of them.

“No more sitting close at conventions until you agree to more formal terms with the girls.”

“At least one of your public girlfriends at the upcoming convention.”

“Engagement rings and romantic stories to go with them.” This one was followed by rejections on our parts and promises of revisiting the topic on the parts of the others after some heated discussion.

By the time we left the lot, our heads were spinning. I can still remember the way you clutched my hand all the way home. When Clif stopped in front of our house, we said nothing to him as we went up the front walk. I could feel his eyes boring into our backs as a warning to behave. It made me want to reach for your hand to pull you into a kiss right in front of the house.

But we’d already drawn the ire of the Powers That Be, so we went inside without any drama and I reached for you instinctively as I saw your legs begin to give out as the door closed behind us. I helped you to the sofa and I pulled you down next to me. 

When you asked me if we could just quit – give it all up and run away, together – I wanted to tell you yes as the pain in your eyes was breaking my heart. Instead I told you we’d feel better in the morning.

When you asked me to please consider coming out as a way to take away their power, I told you I’d think about it. I still do. Every day.

With our emotions in turmoil, we had a hard time reaching out to one another when we needed to. We went to work, we shot our scenes and went home together (most days) with Clif ensuring that we behaved as everyone expected. 

It was a stressful time and when I look back at it now, I can see how all the stress was wearing away at you. We’ve been through a lot since then, and I know now when to take you into my arms and help you deal with your non-show-related demons; but back then, I didn’t realize how bad things could get for you, so I didn’t see _it_ coming.

A month later, we appeared at VanCon 2009. Danneel had flown up at the request of Gomez & Co. She and I attempted to play up our “relationship” during my panel. The crowd ate it up and Danneel preened and basked in the attention. She loved it, while you listened behind the curtain, hating every reference and faux term of endearment.

I knew it hurt you – and I hated doing it – but I also knew that if we were going to stay employed, we had to find a way to get through it together. 

We tried our best to get through the convention, but we were so _aware_ of being near one another now, with everything we did and said under scrutiny – not just by those who employed us, but by the fandom… and gossip writers.

We thought we’d gotten through the convention relatively unscathed, until a little over a week later, in early September, we were back in The Awful Truth, being compared by Randolph Scott and Cary Grant.

It was a nightmare. I’d never seen Gomez’s face so red when she confronted us with the latest gossip item. When she asked us how we’d feel about the show ending in season 5 and no career prospects for us, I tried to control my smirk when you stood and yelled, “Do it!”

I knew how you felt; I was angry, too. It felt like we were losing parts of ourselves with every compromise we made and every order we followed. When I said your name softly, once again wishing I’d projected my voice more, you turned to me and the look of anguish on your face brought tears to my eyes.

I stood and addressed those present. “We need some time.”

They left us alone and I reminded you that you were in some heavy talks for several movie roles; you could really take off on the big screen. If we didn’t play along – all of that would be at risk. When I asked you if you really wanted to give it all up, your face fell and then you brought your hands to your face to hide your tears.

I stood and pulled you into my arms. There was nothing I could say. Not yet. We had to make this decision together and we couldn’t do it when we were both so emotionally overwrought. I held you until I knew you would be able to maintain your composure. I dried your tears and kissed you softly, whispering, “Let’s go.”

We walked out of the studio offices and I gestured at Clif, indicating that we were leaving. We weren’t done filming for the day, but Singer took one look at us and then turned to a PA, asking them to tell everyone to go home.

When we got home, you needed time so I retreated to our room. I grabbed a book and spent the next several hours reading Anna Karenina. I’d been trying to get through it for months; you have always been a voracious reader and I (still) try to keep up with your intellect. You don’t make it easy, though.

When you finally joined me, I was snoozing with the book forgotten on my chest. Your soft lips against mine brought me into full awareness. “Hey.”

You didn’t want to talk so you asked me to take you to a place where only we existed. I did my best and you thanked me afterward, as you fell asleep in my arms. 

The next morning, we went off to work and we still weren’t talking about the previous day’s events. If then-me had the knowledge that now-me has, I would have forced you to talk. You needed to even though you didn’t want to. Avoidance is a sign that _it_ is coming and I truly wish I’d know that back then.

A couple of weeks later, I wasn’t needed on-set for Episode 7 because Chad Everett was busy playing Dean Winchester in his 70s. Gomez handed me 2 itineraries: one from Vancouver to Dallas and the other from LA to Dallas. Danneel wasn’t happy about a trip to my parents’ house given the state of the relationship she had with them, but she was getting paid to support me so we met up there and tried to enjoy ourselves as much as we could.

I called you and texted you while I was gone but I could sense that you weren’t well. I asked you to talk to me but you just kept telling me that everything was fine. I talked to Danneel, telling her I needed to go to you. She was irritated – we hadn’t even been seen out and about. We posed for a picture on a tandem bike and I told her she could tweet it when she got back to LA.

I rushed home to you but you still weren’t talking so I felt helpless as I tried to help you navigate the day. Finally, one night you told me you’d overheard Clif talking about a community of fans who had a forum in which they discussed _us_. You gave me the details and part of me was relieved that there were people out there who could see the truth of what we had.

And then you told me that Clif was posting in the forum, telling people he lived with us and defending our heterosexuality and I felt sick. More lies on top of lies on top of more lies. Where would this all end? 

It was a good question… but one we still can’t answer.

A week later, you had a breakdown. A bona-fide emotional break that scared me to the core. _It_ had arrived. It started on set. As we were wrapping up the day, I saw tears standing in your eyes. I brought you to your (our) trailer and I held you close, begging you to let me in.

For a while you were nearly catatonic; completely unresponsive to my pleas to communicate. Finally, you looked at me and I knew that we had a serious problem. I texted Clif and we took you home. I made you tea and drew you a bath. You couldn’t talk to me about what was bothering you so I called Kripke and told him we needed a couple of days.

Reluctantly, he agreed. We were costing him money and putting our show and our reputations at risk, but you meant more to me than all of those things. I called your doctor and she came to the house. Physically, you were fine. Mentally, you needed a break.

A couple of days later, you found me on the deck, enjoying the last real sun of the year. When you told me you were sorry for losing it, I told you that we were in this for the long haul, and that nothing would ever drive me away from you.

I was surprised when you told me that you’d been thinking and that we should move ahead with the engagement plans. I knew we were headed in that direction, but a little part of me was disappointed. If you had insisted that we just stop the madness and leave the industry, after seeing you break down twice in 5 years, there was a part of me that would have followed you into the sunset.

I asked you if you were sure and you told me you were. You brought up the rumors about us, my family, our careers, the show, the jobs of everyone at the show and you spoke of responsibilities and expectations. I couldn’t disagree with a word you said, even though there was that part of me that wanted to do just that.

That night, when you slid yourself inside me, I told you over and over how much I loved and needed you. As I laid in your arms after, you smiled at me and for the first time in a while, the smile actually reached your eyes.

When you said, “I love you, Jensen.” I know that everything would be alright. We were still us and there was no way we were going to let them break us. I smile now as I think about that moment – it’s still the light and love in your eyes that tells me that everything is going to be ok.


	13. Thirteen

It was a Thursday and we were done shooting for the day. We went home and made dinner together, our movements in sync and our touches soft and gentle. We didn’t talk much as we thought about the weekend ahead. We listened to music as we cleaned the kitchen and when “I Look to You” by Whitney Houston started playing I reached for you as your eyes filled with tears.

I pulled you close and we danced slowly in our kitchen, lost in one another and thankful for the love we shared. Your tears were hot on my neck and I held you tight as I promised you we’d be ok. As the last strains of the song dissipated, I dried your tears and kissed you softly. 

“We’ll be ok.” Your whispered words were like a command to yourself. I agreed with you and took your hand to lead you upstairs to our room. I helped you pack for your day and a half in NYC to coincide with what would be your “engagement” story. I couldn’t go with you because I had my own trip to make. I hated that we were going to be apart, but it was becoming clear that separations were going to be part of our lives in the future now.

We spent the night lost in one another. I needed you inside me and you held me tightly as you slid yourself deep, touching my soul. I needed to feel that I was yours. I needed to know it to my core because after our “engagements” became public, I knew that we’d always be viewed as belonging to someone else until the time came when we could undo our arrangements and actually come out.

Honestly… I can’t believe we’re still waiting for that day. It had never occurred to us that it would be this long with no end in sight.

In the morning, I kissed you thoroughly, possessively, until the limo pulled up to collect you. _She_ was already in NYC filming a movie and waiting for you. My stomach clenched in dread as I watched you haul your carry-on to the limo. With one last wave, you slid into the back seat and the limo pulled away.

I felt empty in the house, alone with no hope of seeing you until late the next day. I tried to keep my thoughts on other things, but I kept thinking about you, flying to NYC with _her_ and I gave serious thought to calling you to beg you to call everything off. Typically you were the one who suggested running away, but at that moment in time, my instinct was to do it.

When Danneel texted me to say she’d landed in Vancouver, I texted her back and said I’d be there in twenty minutes. I pulled up to the baggage claim area and quickly spotted her. She had a day bag, so she just jumped right in and we pulled away from the curb.

When she asked me how I was, I couldn’t stop my tears from flowing. She looked at me in sympathy and suggested that maybe you and I should rethink our “marriage” plans. When I asked her if she wanted to back out, she shook her head and smiled at me ruefully.

She finally told me that for her, I was her best option for stability and she wanted to help me because we’d been friends for a long time. I took her at her word but admittedly, there were numerous times in the intervening years where I’d question whether or not she really wanted to help me, or us for that matter.

After I got her settled in a guest room at our house, I texted you.

Me: _I miss you, babe._

It was an hour before you texted me back just after you landed in NYC.

You: _Miss u too, baby. Only 31 hours until I see u again._

Me: _Can’t wait. Love you._

I felt better for the contact and if I know anything about you, you did, too.

I went to our bedroom and selected some clothes for the evening. Danneel and I were going out, would hopefully be spotted by fans and after dinner, we’d return to the house. She had some friends in town working on various shows and she was planning to have them over for lunch the next day, sporting her new engagement ring and telling the tail of how we’d been up in the mountains and I’d been acting weird and sweating while in the hotel. The story would go that she asked me what was wrong and I’d popped the question.

But first we had to get through the night. Both of us.

You took _her_ to your (as a couple) favorite painting, Joan of Arc. There was the obligatory kiss with hand splayed to present the ring to the viewer. I hated that picture the first time I saw it and to this day, I refuse to look at it. 

I wanted the public to see a picture of us when I’d asked you to be mine forever. You were so happy and when you’re happy you glow – you’re just so beautiful in those moments. And that’s how you looked when I slid a ring on your finger. I want people to see you in those moments – to see just how much we love one another.

Instead the public is fed stilted and awkward pictures of us trying desperately to look like we have some kind of relationship with our “wives”. While our appearances with the girls started to amp up back in 2009, it was hard to keep up the ruse. I honestly thought it would get easier with time; instead it’s become just the opposite.

After our “engagement” weekend was over and we were back together as though nothing had happened, Gomez sent her PR specialists out to begin leaking the news: IMDB, gossip sites… she wanted people to know we were nothing more than two straight men deeply in love with women we were about to marry.

We flew to LA the first weekend in November. You holed up in my house while I accompanied Danneel to the Breeder’s Cup. Now that we were “engaged”, Danneel expected to go to more events and to be seen with me, leveraging our relationship for more press and attention. I wore dark glasses to hide my eyes, knowing that as she preened next to me, showing off her ring, my smile had no chance of making it to my eyes.

I dropped her off at her place before rushing home to you as soon as I was able. We spent the night holding one another and taking comfort in each other’s arms. When I whispered, “this will get easier”, you nodded as though you believed me; but I didn’t believe me and I doubt you did either.

The next morning, we flew back to Vancouver and resumed work. It was our refuge from the other craziness in our lives. We spent the week shooting emotional scenes; season five really was draining in that respect. We wrapped late on Friday and we went home to get some rest before flying out the next day for ChicagoCon. 

When Gomez told us we should consider flying separately, we ignored her. She wasn’t happy about it and it was clear she would continue to press that angle. We had our usual date night before our Sunday appearances. With all of the stress of late, we got back to the hotel at a reasonable hour and spent the evening loving one another.

We’d discussed how and when to start talking openly about our “engagements”. Alona Tal had offered to let some things accidentally slip during her panel and photo ops. We agreed and she delivered. Our interactions were a bit subdued, I think because we both knew that going forward, we’d have to talk about Gen and Danneel, giving them a vaunted place in our lives.

Neither of us were happy about that, but we knew we had to accept it. What neither of us had anticipated is that the acceptance of that wouldn’t be a one-time event; even today, we struggle with accepting the bearding responsibilities. Sometimes we rebel, and when we do, we always pay a price. But in those moments we find our truth.

The 2009 holidays went by in a blur. Since we were now “engaged”, there were family appearances that were expected and we put on the performances of our lives. While all 4 sets of nuclear families were aware of the real situation, none of the extended relatives nor family friends knew the score so we spent a lot of the break apart. 

I traveled to Louisiana to spend time with Danneel’s family and then we went to Dallas. My mother’s sister, a lesbian herself, pulled me aside to ask me if I truly understood what I was locking myself into. She and I had always been close and she had always suspected my true nature. Her eyes welled up with tears as I explained that you and I would find a way to make this work. To this day, she continues to help us whenever and however we need it.

While I was in the south, you started out in the north with _her_ family. You were in Idaho with a brief trip to Montana and then a side trip to San Francisco before the two of you went to San Antonio. At night, I could hear the stress in your voice as I talked you to sleep. Your mother wasn’t thrilled about our plans; I’ve always appreciated her ardent support of us.

But, like everyone else who loved us, she did what she had to in order to support the illusion we were creating. Your cousins and extended family took Gen into the fold and when I was alone after our nightly calls, I’d cry myself to sleep as I thought about someone who was not me being embraced by your family.

Immediately after Christmas, the girls returned to LA and we returned to Vancouver to spend the last days of the year together. We were not willing to be apart for the new year; we’d celebrated the progression from one year to the next together for the previous five years and we vowed we’d never spent that night apart.

When we were alone in our house, we did our best to put thoughts of our subterfuge out of our minds and we concentrated on loving one another. With our faux marriages approaching, we cherished every moment alone. It was hard knowing that soon we’d have to look like our lives were diverging – that these women would take places at our sides where we knew only we belonged. It was a scary and maddening time and I can still remember our feelings of desperation and sometimes even despair. 

But when we’d make love in the dark of night, those feelings would be replaced with love, devotion, desire and commitment. We were one – we’d always been one – and we’d never let anyone or anything divide us. We’d find a way to make it through the upcoming charade. Together.


	14. Fourteen

As 2009 melted into 2010, we spent New Year’s Day at home together. It was pure bliss. We made a breakfast bake together, full of sausage and bacon and eggs and biscuits. It was sinfully delicious and we savored it as we fed one another bites between kisses as we watched It’s a Wonderful Life. We held hands and cuddled, enjoying our time alone as the new year began.

When we returned to set, Gomez was waiting for us. Our double engagements had caused an uproar in the fandom and there was a certain gossip site dedicated to us on Live Journal that was getting a lot of attention. As Suzanne continued to rant about more _separate_ appearances, I looked at you and could see the mirth in your eyes.

We’d always had a special relationship with our fans and now there were a faction of them who continued to support what they suspected to be true. While it caused headaches, we both appreciated the keen eye of those who could see the truth between us.

We said what we needed to in order to mollify Gomez. We made promises we only half-intended to keep and told her everything would be fine. Finally, she left and we returned to the set to continue shooting our show.

Less than a week later she was back. This time it was with the unwelcome news that Ted Casablanca was casting aspersions about the veracity of our upcoming marriages. He specifically stated that we’d sooner marry each other and he wasn’t wrong. At all. There were rumors that he’d been given something definitive that could out us and that’s what had Gomez in a tizzy.

We listened to her tirade about being careful. She badgered us with questions about public displays of affection. We told her we’d been careful and we didn’t know what someone might have on us. And that was all true. The only place we ever felt truly free was in our home so if he had something, then it would have to be from someone taking pictures near our property.

When Gomez said “separate condos”, we both stilled. She put housing agreements in front of us. We were to have our own condo in separate buildings. And we were to move there immediately. When you stood up and walked out, I started to follow. She blocked me from leaving and when she told me I’d better get you to fall into line or both of our jobs, our careers and everyone relying on the show for a job would all be at risk.

I brushed past her and ran to find you. You were in your (our) trailer. I held you as you cried. When you asked me what we were going to do, I told you the truth: I didn’t know.

Once we had both calmed down, I texted Danneel giving her a brief summary of what was happening. In hindsight, that wasn’t a good move. Next thing we knew, she’d engaged Ted in a Twitter war.

@DanneelHarris  
Hey Ted, tell Taryn to buy a new dress because its happening baby!

Your response to her tweet was a wry, “Couldn’t she have used proper grammar?” We both laughed at the lack of apostrophe. We both knew we weren’t marrying the women for their intelligence – or lack thereof.

@Ted_Casablanca  
@danneelharris @taryder is so excited ur actually getting married! U and #Jensen doing newlywed reality show to prove me wrong?

@DanneelHarris  
@theawfultruth We've been building up our tolerance for liqueur and national scorn 4yrs in hopes that some1 would afford us this opportunity

It wasn’t good. And it infuriated the Powers That Be. Gomez was practically foaming at the mouth when she screamed at us about getting the weddings over with ASAP. Ted was writing articles mocking Danneel and challenging her to prove her marriage would happen. The vituperative tone of his posts did a lot more than hint at the fact he _knew_ she and Jensen were not actually in love.

Danneel was chastised for her behavior and Clif was instructed to be more active in policing the fandom. With that came a new Twitter account and aggressive attacks on anyone impersonating us or not supporting our narrative. 

A week later, you took a picture of me to send to Danneel. She had been told to tweet one of me, implying that she was on-set. We did as commanded and I think it was pretty clear from the expression on my face in the picture, I wasn’t happy about it.

When Clif gets a little out of hand in his policing, PR responded by dropping a link to a hastily created Knot page for your wedding to _her_. The site looked like it had been created in 30 minutes or less – and it had as soon as Gomez found out about Ted’s thinly veiled attempt at outing us.

The Knot page contained a link to the photos you and _she_ had taken over the holidays to prepare for the Save the Date mailing for your “wedding”. You told me not to look at them, but I couldn’t help myself. At first I was terrified of seeing something real, but after I looked at 10 or so photos, I could see you were both putting on a terrific act, but there was no real emotion there. By the time I was done, I was good again. 

I knew what you looked like when you were acting. More specifically, I knew what you looked like when you were deeply in love, and nothing I saw in those pictures came close to capturing what you look like when we’re alone together and completely free to love one another. Sometimes people get hints of it when we’re at conventions and I’m talking, telling a story or something. You’ll look at me, completely enraptured, and just for a moment, it’s all right there for everyone to see.

The studio and PR decided to take control of our images. They’d had some involvement earlier but this time, they were manipulating everything. From Clif’s babysitting to our living arrangements and marriages – they were going to be in control in order to protect their investment in us and our show.

As January drew to a close and your wedding neared, we had less control over our own lives than we’d ever had. When Gomez arranged for Danneel to appear on Ted Casablanca’s show, we realized just how invasive they would be. It was nothing we welcomed but quickly realized that we’d signed up for this without even knowing just how heavy-handed they would be.

The week before your “wedding”, we flew to Las Vegas for your Bachelor party. We had everyone double up in rooms so no one would think it was weird that we stayed in our own. Your brother helped us with our cover and just the three of us knew that your “wedding” would be nothing more than a Lifetime movie brought to life, including the acting.

We all went out and we got spotted repeatedly. We didn’t do anything to attract too much attention and we all eventually went back to our rooms. Your brother followed us to ours and I was dreading the conversation I knew he wanted to have with us.

I popped the tops off 3 beers as we got settled in the sitting room. Your brother didn’t wait before jumping right to the point. He told us it killed him to watch us take our lives down this path. He talked about how allowing others to dictate our choices would chip away at our souls. He told us he loved us and he wanted us to be happy.

He made an impassioned plea for us to be true to our love and celebrate it. He wanted us to be happy and out in the open, but he said he’d always support us no matter our choices.

You stood, wiping your eyes, and you went to him. You hugged one another as you thanked him for his support. When you stepped back, you smiled at him through your tears. “We’ve made our choice, Jeff.”

Jeff nodded and took a long pull of his beer. “Ok.” was all he said.

After your brother went back to his room, we got into bed together. When you said, “I don’t wanna think anymore…” I rolled you over and made you forget everything that wasn’t me.

In the morning, we had brunch with the guys and Jeff did his best to look happy, but we could see the sadness in his eyes and we knew our choices were the cause. We tried to be up and happy and no one but the three of us knew that anything was amiss.

We all said good-bye at the airport and you and I flew back to Vancouver while everyone else went their separate ways. We knew we’d all be back together in a few days for the wedding in Idaho, so no one lingered too long.

We held hands in the plane, under a blanket per the usual. When we got home, we finished packing up our house. The studio had arranged for movers to come while we were away and everything save for some smaller personal things had been delivered to our separate condos. We put our boxes in your SUV and drove over to my new condo.

I took what belonged to me and tried to smile when you said, “I’ll be back.”

You took the rest of your belongings to your condo and then packed a carry-on. You waited until dark and then you called a taxi. It brought you to my building and you used a side entrance to enter it. When you finally got to my place, I let you in and pulled you into a hug. 

When you asked me if we were making the wrong choice, I answered truthfully when I told you I didn’t know. I still don’t know if we could have done anything differently.

As we made love in our bed, we shut out the world and thoughts of what would come as we built a world in which nothing existed but you and me and our love for one another.

You were always an early riser, so for the next several mornings you got up early and jogged back to your place since we were less than a mile from one another. Clif would pick me up in the morning and then we’d head to your place to pick you up. I hated the smug smile on his face as you climbed in. It was clear he enjoyed thinking about us having to spend evenings apart.

On the third day, you looked at him defiantly before pulling me into a scorching kiss. I snickered when you stage whispered, “I know we’ve only been apart for 90 minutes, but I really missed you, baby.”

Clif looked angry and you met his gaze unflinchingly. The “fuck you” you wanted to say but didn’t was written all over your expression and I loved you for your bravery in facing down the studio-sanctioned babysitter.

Clif cleared his throat and said, “Be careful, Jared.”

You just rolled your eyes as you took my hand. I squeezed your hand tightly as I tried not to think about flying to Sun Valley the next day. We were masters of avoidance at times, and your “wedding” was certainly something we both wanted to avoid, all the while knowing it was just four days away.

**Author's Note:**

> This is all just fiction, people! I'm sure *none* of this has happened anywhere other than in my mind as I weave a tale.


End file.
